Some Thoughts on the Billy Graham Rule

A couple of weeks ago I had a bit of a rant on Twitter about the foundations for the Billy Graham Rule. (If you are (lucky enough to be) unaware of such a rule, I’ll send you out in to the inter-webs to read more: BGR.) I turned the rant into a “Moment” at the advice from one wiser than I about these things (h/t Travis McMaken*). In order to make the Moment available to a non-twitter audience, I have embedded the tweets below. Enjoy!

https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847786516264996864 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847786715867742208 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847786863884722176 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847787039269560320 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847787131892322304 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847787706847547393 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847787988985708544 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847788206988943360 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847788539916038145 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847788840026820608 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847789455427739648 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847789777185378305 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847790156107177984 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847790432197234689 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847790748527448064 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847791939248369669 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847886399210762240 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847886551434629122 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847887335769464833 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847887602107785216 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847887868781621248 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847888140039839744 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847888352586199040 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847888429404782593 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847888589988016129 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847889074476244993 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847889260913078272 https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/847889641575501825

 

*You are encouraged to visit his blog: http://derevth.blogspot.com/p/about-die-evangelischen-theologen.html

A Comment Worth Posting

Last week I wrote a post about being a feminist. (You can read it here.) I received a couple of comments on the actual post and some more via twitter. But one friend, Nate Sparks, dm:ed me privately with his comments. His reason to dm me privately was that he didn’t want his comment to detract from my post. I really respect that choice and felt honored by it. However, Nate and I have a really cool friendship. You see, we do not agree on everything, specifically as it pertains to certain issues regarding sexuality, sexual identity, and gender identity. There is much overlap in our thoughts, but there are differences. That he felt the freedom to come to me and tell me what he was thinking was an honor to me, specifically because of the dialogue we had as a result; that I was still free to say: “hey, we don’t agree here” is a beautiful measure of the real freedom that our relationship has. I don’t want to be surrounded by the people that I only agree with nearly 100% of the time; conflict and tension aren’t to be feared in relationship with an other, with another human being, but to be pushed through. If the cycle of death to life in relationship is to continue, which it should, then conflict and tension demand the setting aside of self  (the death of the self (of both selves) in the relationship) through ardent listening to the other and desire to have your language altered because of the other. I’m not sure if any of that makes sense. With those with whom I agree nearly completely, my listening and language become lazy; but with those friends who disagree with me, listening and language are taken to another level because they have to be if the relationship is to remain alive and concurrently life-giving. This is the kind of relationship I am fortunate enough to have with Nate, and, frankly, I’m really grateful for it and blessed by it.

With that said, I wanted to take the time to honor Nate and his extremely thoughtful and well thought out response to my post on feminism. I was going to add it to the comments section of the original post, but after I read it a number of times felt compelled to give it its own place. Nate in his comments challenges me to think bigger and offers some very interesting things to contemplate. So, below, is what Nate wrote to me. Enjoy.

 

Yay! I love what you did here, and love your humility in writing it. Its awesome that Travis can come to you like that and you can listen and learn. That is a trait I love about you, and this post makes me even more proud to call you a friend. I’m not pushing you to change the post, but I did have a couple thoughts as I read it.

1. Many feminists will recoil at the phrasing “man-hating.” Because much of the angst of feminism is based in very real slight and mistreatment, mosts feminists would rather be perceived as “man hating” (though that is largely a misnomer) than be seen as playing by the rules of the patriarchal system.

2. I encourage you to give feminist theologians another shot. I used to cringe at feminist scholarship because I saw it as twisting and manipulating the text. But I recently went back to some feminist theology/commentary books I own. I was struck by a word in the work of Elaine Wainwright on the Gospel of Matthew. She said that, when so much of scholarship has worked to exclude you, you have to form a new meaning (she uses poesis) with a new and inclusive narrative. This involves going against the grain and asking the questions often deemed too dangerous. There are certainly feminist scholars who go a bit off the deep end. But I greatly value and learn from feminist scholarship and have found much of what so believe challenged by learning to see the narrative of women where once I never even thought to look.

3. I absolutely agree you are a feminist, but be careful not to define feminism in a way that dismisses intersectionality. Feminism, at least since the third wave, has strongly emphasized that overcoming patriarchy benefits all people. They are things like racism and homophobia as rooted in patriarchy and the pursuit of the “ideal masculine” which rules over and is privileged above all others. As such, feminism is about equality for POC and LGBT as well. A prime example is Black Lives Matter. Many are unaware the movement was started by and still run nationally by two black, queer feminists. Again, I don’t say this to dismiss your words or crush you. I certainly hope they haven’t done so. It takes a lot of deprogramming to embrace feminism – trust me, I know that full well. I only want to encourage you to continue the journey and keep exploring. I know I am often tempted to say, “Okay, I embrace feminism and equality, so I’m here now. I’ve arrived.” I need to remember that I am on a journey, that it is okay to listen and learn and develop over time. In as much as I know I need to be reminded of this, I hope to encourage you in this as well. You’re an awesome person, a great teacher, and an amazing friend. I’m happy to see you grow more comfortable in your skin as a feminist. Thank you for sharing with me 😃

Feminist.

Someone I know from twitter challenged something I said in an interview that aired yesterday over at Key Life Network. Now before you cry out, “Down with trolls!”, I have to say this individual is far from a troll and is someone for whom I have sincere respect. I don’t entertain trolls, but I’ve learned that when Travis* asks what seems like a nonchalant, casual question or finishes a statement with an ellipses, I’m quite certain something is about to be unearthed, some preconceived notion of mine is about to be radically altered…for the better.  So, when he asked,

Why don’t you want to sound ‘like a complete, total feminist’?

I thought, “Oh, crap…here we go…”,  and I buckled up and braced for impact. My answers and his push-back revealed (to me) that I had serious cracks in my understanding about feminism in general and exposed (to me) my own very deep seated fear of being associated with feminism and called a feminist–not something I’m proud to admit. And if the initial question and the following push-backs weren’t well aimed arrows hitting each of their marks, it was the last remark he made that hit me so perfectly and with such skill that Legolas himself would be jealous. I had just defended myself by saying,

…even tho I’m cautious (and maybe overly so) about how i define myself as a feminist does not discredit all the work I do to promote women and men…

To which he wrote,

Nope, doesn’t discredit it. But it (your caution) may implicitly discredit the work being done by others…

That arrow hurt. That impact hurt. While I wasn’t hurled into an existential crisis, I was forced to reckon with some questions:

Why am I cautious about a feminist label?

Am I potentially hindering good work being done by disassociating myself from feminism?

Am I a feminist?

To answer the first question, I think the main reason I’m hesitant to call myself a feminist because of the way “feminist” is a four letter word in conservative evangelical circles, in which I was spiritually reared and (to some extent) academically trained. Not only is it considered a four letter word, but it is assumed to be so connected to secular life, that  a good Christian woman would never want to call herself a feminist. Feminist, from what I can deduce from my experience, seems to draws up imagery of an angry, man-hating women, looking to overthrow the entire system by her rejection of marriage and family. A couple of years back, my seminary had to deal with the issue of some male MDiv and DMin students singling out female MDiv students on the ordination track telling them they were acting against God’s divine ordering of the sexes. In conservative contexts, many feminist theologians get a bad name for some of the awkward things they do exegetically to scripture (sometimes the accusation is valid; sometimes not. And let us not confuse feminist theologian with a theologian who is also a feminist). As a woman student and then as a Teacher’s Assistant, who spoke up for the equality and freedom of women using both theology and scripture as my foundation, I thought I was in a bind: I’d lose my audience if I played the feminist card. So I distanced myself, “Not feminist…so you can listen to meRather than stand ground and demand that the word “feminist” be defined correctly in spite of the few places it’s been run into the mud, I attempted to placate the more conservative folk I was encountering.

And here I can answer the second question posed above: yes, my disassociation from feminism hinders the good work others are doing. How so? In this way: as I go about both my academic and pastoral callings, which incorporates a message of freedom for women and men, while simultaneously denying that I am a feminist essentially creates a dividing line where I make the implicit statement that what I am doing is good and what other feminists are doing is bad. For all intents and purposes, I’m promoting my work at the expense and detriment of the work of other feminists. I’m creating teams, an “us” and “them.” As a Christian the “us” and “them” will almost always take on the flavor of Christian and Secular, good and bad; this is unacceptable.

And since when is it a good idea for Christians (for me) to shirk a word or phrase because of the historically negative connotations it has carried? Am I not given a new language, a new grammar, a new voice to speak, new eyes to see, and new ears to hear as a result of faith in Christ? To part ways with “feminist” because of fear, rubs against the confidence I’ve been given in Christ. Rather than throw out language because of its baggage (hypothetical or not), let us use the new language we’ve been given in Christ to rightly define the language.

Feminism rightly understood is freedom and equality for woman alongside man; and this freedom and equality is beneficial for man in that it demands and expects more from him than has been previously expected from patriarchy. This freedom and equality for woman is exactly what is given to her through Jesus Christ; for scriptural support, start by reading through the gospel of Luke and move on from there. This demand on man that expects more than what patriarchy has ever expected is justified in the person and being of Jesus Christ.  The way Jesus interacts with women throughout the gospels is a demand and expectation on man to be capable of more. In union with Christ by faith in Him, men are neither tyrannical overlords lusting to rule over the weak woman nor primal beasts needing to be tamed and educated by the domesticated and civil hand of the woman; in union with Christ by faith in Him, the free man is rightly oriented to the free woman, and she to him because they are rightly oriented to God by the power of the Holy Spirit.This is the goal of feminism rightly understood, and it has everything to do with us Christians and Christianity.

Am I feminist?

Yes.

I am a complete and total feminist.

 

* @WTravisMcMaken (on Twitter) and I highly recommend visiting his blog: Die Evangelischen Theologen   http://derevth.blogspot.com/

Death to Life in Fertility to Birth

The following post is a conglomerate of four older posts that I did a few years back (the date of the introduction being early September, 2013). I’ve merged them here, as I feel they make a fine article to be taken as a whole. The introduction makes clear the goal and a quick glance into the method of my madness in terms of writing these posts. I want to be clear that while I do celebrate the event that is my ability as a woman to create, sustain, and nurture life in and from my body, I do not think that experiencing such an event defines womanhood; my theology leads me to believe that womanhood is made full in Christ (justified by faith in Christ) apart from any works I or my body may do. Enough with my caveats; I’ll let you read.

Introduction

“’Can a woman forget her nursing child,
that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb?
Even these may forget,
yet I will not forget you.'”

Isaiah 49:15

“Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”

Matthew 10:39

It’s not surprising that the topic of life is first and foremost on my mind. At some time, in the next 3-4 weeks, I’ll give birth to our third child. It is an exciting event; a new life will exist in the world, creating her own ripple effect in the lives of her parents, her brothers, her grandparents, and those she will one day encounter. The whole event is, simply, miraculous; there is a lot of joy and celebration that should surround such an event.  From the moment of conception, through pregnancy, to the culmination in birth the common theme is new life, and not incorrectly so for it is in fact a new life in the world.

But what is less spoken of, but I believe to be inherent in the event, is the death involved in order for this new life to come forth. For, to be sure, there is a death, a real death to self from beginning to end. This death lies in the fact of the lack of control that is part of the fertility and child-bearing process. There is nothing guaranteed within the process. No matter how much a book may claim otherwise, encouraging that you can in fact plan when you will conceive based on some temperatures and fluids, the fact remains that not only are these very factors out of our control, but even if all the elements align perfectly, there is still some portion of control lacking in the acquisition of the final product: conception and implantation.  Conception and implantation have no guarantees attached to them, for the threat of miscarriage is very real in the first trimester and even in the second, not to mention tubal implantation. Graduating into post week 20, and you still aren’t guaranteed a successful outcome, as I’ve heard a number of stories about how everything was just fine and then…Even now, at nearly full term, there is no guarantee that everything will be fine; even now I have not complete and total control over what will happen.  And so it is, from the beginning to the end, I am radically changed through the event of death and not of life; in this event, at every turn, I am reminded of my place (at God’s mercy) and the futility of my capability.

But though it is death, it is not death for death’s sake; but an event of death to bring forth life, to bring forth new life (an event of actuality that leads to possibility) and, typically, not only one new life, but two. I don’t mean to be callous in my math here but, yes, for the time being, I am excluding the man from the equation. While he participates in the beginning, the whole of the pregnancy is rather abstract for him, only becoming “more real” upon birth and at that moment the death he experiences–because of this new life–begins.  I say this as a woman who is married to a man who lovingly cooks for her during the first trimester when her stomach can’t handle it, understands as her expanding belly and increased number of pillows demands at least half of the bed, and cancels work trips and outings with friends because, “It’s just too close to the due date.” Not to mention a man who is as passionate about natural labor and childbirth as his wife is and knows his supporting role in labor; a man who held me, letting me hang my full weight from his arms during every late stage contraction as I tried for a VBAC with our second son, for 14 hours (roughly). So I don’t mean to say that the man isn’t part of the process, but for what I’m talking about here, life out of death as it relates to fertility, pregnancy, and the birth of the child, I’m focusing on her, the woman; because it is this journey, which is her journey and during which he plays a supporting role (albeit the primary supporting role). He stands apart from the event, looking on, watching, providing support when and where he can, but ultimately this event is between her and God. She will suffer death over and over again, which will bring forth this new life of her own and that of her child. He will be impacted but later, subsequent to her death and new life.

Plus, to be honest, I can’t speak from the man’s point of view. The only information I’ve been able to garner about the whole event from his perspective is from my husband. He’s willingly admitted the abstractness of the whole thing and we laugh when he asks, “Is there really a baby in there?” To which I like to respond, “No. A litter of Kittens.” About which we both admit that that scenario (though creepy, loaded with questions were it to happen, and perfect fodder for a B rated sci-fi movie) would be significantly easier than a real baby.  He’s also admitted a feeling of helplessness during our miscarriages. During our last miscarriage, as I lay on the bathroom floor in the fetal position, enduring 3 hours of transition contractions to pass the sack (etc), all he could do was lay with me unable to take my pain, to alleviate it, to stop my tears. I know it was no “easy” task to witness the woman he loves suffer excruciating pain and discomfort and sorrow and I’m sure there was a death in that for him; the line I’m desiring to draw is between the one who goes through the event and the one who witnesses the event.

While I’ve attempted to appease the allegations that could be brought forth against me for not including Him in my discussion of Her, I’m sure I’ve not exhausted all possible appeals. With that said, I want to get back to why I’ve started this post in the first place: the death and life in fertility to birth. I plan to look at three primary areas as they relate to the themes of death and life: pregnancy, labor and delivery, and infertility and loss. As a woman, I will be able to speak from experience of having gone through the bulk of these events–the good and the bad, the joyful and the sorrowful.  As a theologian of the cross, I will see these events through the lens that God creates out of nothing (not just in the beginning but now); that these events participate in that death and (re)creation; and how, in the depths of the fear, the realization of the loss of control, and deep insecurity, Jesus Christ proves himself to be true and real and  present in that suffering with us, not to “test” us but to to whisper to us, “I know. Take my hand. Follow me” and to be our strength when we’ve got none left to walk on.

Pregnancy

 “To the woman he said, ‘I will surely multiply your pain in childbearing; in pain you shall bring forth children'” (Gen 3:16a,b)

When Martin Luther translates this verse from Hebrew into German, the first two parts of the verse read like this, “Und zur Frau sprach er: Ich will dir viel Mühsal schaffen, wenn du schwanger wirst; unter Mühen sollst du Kinder gebären.” Or, in English, “And to the woman he said: ‘I will create/make many toil/distress/difficulty when you are pregnant; under troubles/pains/toils you are supposed to give birth to children.'” The Hebrew supports Luther’s translation choices. The Hebrew word w’heronekh’ incorporates not only the idea of child-bearing, but, more specifically, the whole of the event from beginning to end:  including pregnancy and conception. If this were not so and if the word only referred to the act of child-bearing (the labor and delivery part, which is often the focus for many people), then the second of the first two statements to the woman would be redundant–the second being nearly unnecessary. In what God says to the woman as part of her curse to bear is that from beginning to end the event of bringing forth a child will be toilsome, hard, filled with sorrow, pain, difficulty, and distress; there is no part that goes unscathed by the curse. Bringing forth a child, in simple terms, will not be easy in any stretch of the imagination. Part of the battle ground between life and death will be her very body; as fast as she can rejoice, she will be able to weep.  All of it happening to her and in her and apart from her control–and there in lies her death, her pain, her toil–it’s not merely physical but also emotional and intellectual.

For this post, I’ll focus primarily on pregnancy (and not conception, I’ll save that for a later post), which makes sense because I’m 38.5 weeks pregnant. Pregnancy is, if you will, sort of on my mind. So what does death and life look like as a woman progresses through pregnancy? A perpetual (or what feels like a perpetual) loss of self, a handing over of one’s self to the event. Physically, this is somewhat more obvious. The pregnancy, and by this I really mean the growing life within the womb, takes over. A glass of milk is no longer merely some Vit D for the mom, it will go first to the child. Our bodies, literally, re-prioritize who is important; and the important person is the new life, the child. If we don’t ingest enough vitamins to cover both baby and mom, we, ourselves in our body, will suffer. Then there’s the ever present aversions (both smell and taste and touch) that pop up in an otherwise normally unaffected mother. With my second son I couldn’t tolerate the smell of Ham. Ham. It’s completely innocuous; it has no danger to it whatsoever, but I reacted to it like I would rotten eggs or rotten meat. There’s the nauseous hailing in “morning sickness”, which, by the way, is typically more of an all-day sickness that can fluctuate in correlation to, well, nothing really. It sort of does what it wants. Personally, I would be nauseous both full or hungry, both rested or tired. And speaking of rest, what’s that?? In the beginning, in those first few weeks, there is, typically, extreme exhaustion, no matter what you do. You could sleep all day and wake up and feel exhausted.  Physically, the woman is taken over. She is no longer in control of her body, and this is the beginning of the death of herself.

But it doesn’t end with the completion of the first tri-mester; no. way. As the pregnancy progresses so will her weight, her hips will spread, her belly will expand, her breasts will enlarge, her feet will change, her ligaments (all of them) will loosen and the once graceful and deft will quickly become, shall we say, a bull in a china shop. On a confessional note, I bump into more walls, door frames, and banisters than I care to admit. My large belly has actually turned on and ignited gas burners on our stove. My husband got nervous one night, because he was certain I’d burn my belly reaching up over the stove to get something down from the cabinet above. At this stage in the game I can’t actually just sit up from a lying down position, but have to sort of do this roll thing and throw in a grunt or two. And that’s just what I’m willing to share.  Every month that progresses by, she will lose more and more of herself and who she was. Every turn through out the pregnancy changes her, for good–there’s truly no going back to what was.

While the physical symptoms present themselves in such tangible ways, there are yet more concerns for the pregnant woman that lie just under the surface of the physical in the emotional and intellectual. Fear.  I am not only losing control of my body as it seems to completely hand itself over to this process of growing this life, but I am in the midst of a deep, spiritual awareness that I’m not in control and that awareness brings with it fear.  Humanity in general does not like to be out of control; we’d rather be God than confess that we need Him.  This truth is ever present in the life of the pregnant woman. What do you mean there’s, technically, nothing I can do to guarantee a successful result?! Fear (and anxiety, it’s sister) is the tantamount emotional and intellectual response to the realization that one is not in control. And fear is the exact emotion she will feel (some of us more and some of us less) during the entire pregnancy, for there is no definite to lay hold of; confidence is pure illusion.

For me, fear rears it’s head frequently. I remember remarking to a friend when I was pregnant with my first that I wish I had a window that I could look through to see if everything was okay with my baby. I want there to be something that I can do to ensure a good result: I won’t drink coffee or alcohol, I’ll avoid noxious odors and certain foods with old-wives tales linking them with miscarriage (from any culture), I’ll happily stop running and other activities that could result in loss or damage to the baby. But still, even if I do all of those things, there’s no guarantee. Even currently being 38weeks (almost 39) pregnant, I still have that lingering concern about whether or not everything is okay, and I have it everyday. Throughout the first trimester, I was concerned about miscarriage; then through the second trimester, concerned about late term miscarriage, still birth, the results of tests; and, now, as I approach the end of the third trimester, my concern lie in her movements throughout the day, what the outcome of labor and delivery will be, is she really healthy (mentally and physically), and will we be okay through the c-section/recovery. As I go through my day without taking hold of the concrete answers I desire, and made aware of my inability to do anything, I am thrust to my knees (sometimes very literally) at the foot of the Cross, asking for help to make it one more day, to take one more step through what seems to be a thick fog. Each breath accompanied by honest confessions of fear and weakness and heartfelt pleas for His mercy.  The more I progress through this pregnancy I made more and more aware that while the end will hopefully result in the bringing forth a new life into this world, there is something between here and there and that something is death.

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me” (Psalm 23:4).

From conception to birth, the woman is thrown to the foot of the Creator’s throne, dependent on His will, His mercy, and His strength through her weakness. Everyday for nine months, she will make this journey; everyday she will hand herself over to the death of herself; everyday she will be much more different than the day before; everyday she will join her voice with Mary’s, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38). Everyday she will die, only to be raised up anew.

Labor and Delivery

O Lord, in distress they sought you;
they poured out a whispered prayer
when your discipline was upon them.
 Like a pregnant woman
who writhes and cries out in her pangs
when she is near to giving birth,
so were we because of you, O Lord;
     we were pregnant, we writhed,
but we have given birth to wind.
We have accomplished no deliverance in the earth,
and the inhabitants of the world have not fallen.
 Your dead shall live; their bodies shall rise.
You who dwell in the dust, awake and sing for joy!
For your dew is a dew of light,
and the earth will give birth to the dead. (Isaiah 26:17-19)

Femininity is often defined in terms more associated with a church mouse than that of a living, breathing, human being. Meek and mild are the boundary markers for interpretations on what is feminine: soft, smooth, gentile, maternal, quiet, proper, etc. It will be no surprise to you then that I would disagree with any definition of femininity that is based on such words/terms. In defining femininity, we must consider the very thing that biologically defines a woman: birthing. Thus, redefine femininity. Rather than meek and mild, it is strength, fortitude, and even fierceness that defines femininity. A woman in labor is completely feminine. A woman in labor is confronting death to bring forth life; no small task. And she confronts death alone. No person (apart from the Holy Spirit) takes her hand and guides her through it. It is here where the ferocity that is woman comes to the fore; she will (speaking in terms of an un-medicated labor and delivery) moan, grunt, even growl at death, bring it, Death! She’ll stare it down. My life for this one! A proper definition of femininity must incorporate this imagery.

Labor and delivery is earthy and visceral. I’ve yet to meet a husband, having witnessed his wife giving birth, who has not walked away completely changed in his opinion of what this woman can do and even is. Many male comedians have joked–in truth to a great degree–that if God came down and changed the roles (men now being child-bearers) that the human race would cease to exist. Men who have stood by, next to, or even those who have have held their wife during labor (my husband), and witnessed this process are forever changed in their own way–at the least his view of her is radically altered. Thus, in the process of creating a definition of femininity that incorporates the imagery of the woman in labor, the definition of masculinity is redefined. Chivalry become less about protecting her from danger and more about protecting her space to enter into this danger. His inherent ability and desire to protect (a generalization I’m willing to make having seen this “protector” spirit in my young sons) will be turned outward, toward the world, keeping the world at bay; in his presence she is safe, he becomes the source of comfort and soothing–he becomes the homestead–while she enters into this event and while she works and battles. He is not holding her, but holding everyone back. In light of modern birthing techniques, the husband often loses his role in this process, being relegated to the side and designated unhelpful or useless–a problem that needs a correction. Husbands are crucial to the process and the event this woman, his wife, will go through, for he is her first source of comfort, the one who knows her intimately, and his presence can represent to her that she is free to enter into this battle, to face death.

So, let us speak in terms of the theme of these posts, and let us look on the death and life in labor and delivery.

From the onset of labor to the completion of pushing, the woman submits to the event happening to them. The woman gives herself up (has to) to bring this other life into the world.  A woman who is laboring (naturally) will often look almost lifeless during the highpoint of contractions–slumped and limp held up only by the strength of her husband’s arms or still, inexpressive,  curled up on her side. Even delivery (pushing), the most primal of the process and invoking the totality of the activity of the woman–activity surfacing beyond all reason, in spite of all exhaustion–in itself, represents her total submission to the event–she has to push. She is face to face with death (her death), she will give the whole of herself to the process and afterwards is forever different.  She does not choose when labor begins, but it seizes her, and she can do nothing but die to herself to bring this child into the world. When you see her child, you see the death she went through in labor and delivery to move this child from her body in to the world. It is impossible to go through this process, this event and remain the same.  There is a new woman at the end of the event and not merely a new title to add to the others.

But let me not forget those of us who endure a different labor and delivery process; for those of us who endure Cesarian sections (a major surgery to extract the baby from the very lowest part of the abdomen) also go through the death into new life process. Having had three C-Sections, the imagery of being laid out on an operating table in a cruciform position does not escape my attention. My arms are stretched out to the side, and strapped (albeit loosely) down. My legs pulled straight on a narrow (and I mean NARROW) table. It is in this position, cruciform, that I will give birth. I don’t want to make a too-big of a deal about this nor draw a one-to-one comparison between her and Jesus’ death. But the imagery is there. During our last (and final) delivery, I walked (without Daniel) to the OR; everything about this small trek to have our daughter felt like dead woman walking. Each step down the cold hallway, barely covered by my gown, led me toward my confrontation with death. Without the lead-up that is the transition between early stage labor to a stage referred to as “transition”, you feel catapulted to deaths door in the event of a c-section.  As she is laid out, strapped, prepped, and as the curtain is raised–separating her from the gruesome scene below–she will close her eyes, breathe out, and say, “My life, for this one.” She will never be the same when the last suture is in place, and she will bare the scar of this confrontation, it will be the symbol of her new, of her different self, forever marked.

Labor Pains

I am sick today,
sick in my body,
eyes wide open, silent,
I lie on the bed of childbirth.

Why do I, so used to the nearness of death,
to pain and blood and screaming,
now uncontrollably tremble with dread?

A nice young doctor tried to comfort me,
and talked about the joy of giving birth.
Since I know better than he about this matter,
what good purpose can his prattle serve?

Knowledge is not reality.
Experience belongs to the past.
Let those who lack immediacy be silent.
Let observers be content to observe.

I am all alone,
totally, utterly, entirely on my own,
gnawing my lips, holding my body rigid,
waiting on inexorable fate.

There is only one truth.
I shall give birth to a child,
truth driving outward from my inwardness.
Neither good nor bad; real, no sham about it.

With the first labor pains,
suddenly the sun goes pale.
The indifferent world goes strangely calm.
I am alone.
It is alone I am.

Akiko Yosano
Infertility and Loss

And Elkanah, her husband, said to her, “Hannah, why do you weep? And why do you not eat? And why is your heart sad? Am I not more to you than ten sons?” … [Hannah] was deeply distressed and prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly. And she vowed a vow and said, “O Lord of hosts, if you will indeed look on the affliction of your servant and remember me and not forget your servant, but will give to your servant a son, then I will give him to the Lord all the days of his life, and no razor shall touch his head.” (1 Sam 1:8-11)

Affliction; this is the word Hannah uses to describe her childless state, her barren state, as she prays to God (actually, it’s more like pleading and begging). Hannah is afflicted with grief and sorrow. She is distressed and she weeps bitterly. She can’t eat, she laments (the deeper connotation of the word translated as “weep”), and she is not merely “sad” as a “feeling of blueness” as we would casually say, “I’m sad today.” It would be better to render the question from her husband, “why is your heart sad?,” as “why is your heart broken?”  Anyone reading who has suffered a broken heart knows that this feeling breaks through the floor of sadness into a realm that effects both the mind and the body in painful ways. A broken heart is described as such because the heart actually feels broken; there’s an ache or a piercing pain that seems to ricochet through the fleshiness of the heart muscle–it’s not merely metaphorical.  Hanna experiences this depth of broken-heartedness.

Over what?

A longing and a desire gone unmet.

Hannah is barren; she is without a child.  Hannah isn’t over-reacting about her childless state. The way the story is told seems more like a snapshot of her life at this one moment of her distress over being barren rather than a wholistic picture of what Hannah has been suffering–Hannah’s story practically opens the book of 1 Samuel. In v. 5 there is the mention that the Lord had closed her womb. And then from there, we jump right into her peaking distress and broken heart. In this way–the way the story is told–we miss out on the beauty that is the climactic point of Hannah’s distress and weeping. She is wholly consumed by hope deferred; hope deferred doesn’t merely occur because hope has been deferred once…but over and over and over again. Hannah has been pushed to the brink of the cliff that leads to despair, to death.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life. (Prov. 13:12)

Hope deferred makes the heart sick and this sickness steals life from the victim. Hannah has spent who knows how long longing and yearning for a child. Think of the numerous months coming and going, each one delivering it’s “no” and “not this time” to Hannah’s heart–hope sprung, hope dashed.  And the deferral of her hope has made her sick: she can’t eat, she can’t stop weeping bitterly, she is inconsolable.  This is a picture of a woman who is not well, who is suffering intimately with the brokenness of a very fallen world. When hope has been deferred for so long and dashed against the rocks so many times, one begins to long for not-hope. The deferral of hope can make one so sick that they wish for hope to take flight and to vanish, never again to alight on the heart–for, to the suffering soul, to live a life vanquished of hope seems better than to have hope yet once again only to have it dashed…yet once again.

And so it is with those of us who have suffered with infertility or loss or both. In both infertility and loss there is a hope, a real, tangible, hope that blossoms and the real hope that is shattered into what seems like shards upon shards. And each time this hope is dashed, there is a death. And it is this death that leaves the woman a different creation the next day. Out of all the experiences surrounding fertility and birth, it is those who suffer from infertility and loss who get the one two punch of Gen 3–the curse rears it’s head both in the inability to get or to stay pregnant (pain increased) and the all to alert awareness that death still marches about the earth creating casualties, leaving scars. These are the women who will enter into the battle that wages to bring forth life (my life for this one), who will face death, and who will exit the battlefield marred.

And yet, out of this real encounter with death, with “no,” with “not this time,” there is life: for she is a new creation out of this death–never to be the same again. For it is she who has suffered death that knows what life is; it is she who has not born new life who understands–on a deep and visceral level–just how miraculous new life is; it is she who has wept bitterly and cried out for relief who knows from Whom joy and comfort come; it is she who knows the failure of the very thing she was uniquely gifted to do who finds her very person not in the sum of her working or not-working parts, but in the totality of The One who has born the brokenness of the world (and of her body) in His body and who has dealt death a death-dealing blow. And while she has not brought forth new life quantified in onsies and diapers, she is the epitome of new life, for it is she who declares even in this darkness: life.

 

My Body Broken

One of the hardest things I’ve ever done is become a mother, specifically a stay-at-home-mom. When I found out I was pregnant with my first son, I knew that I wanted to be the one to stay home. My husband had a wonderful full-time job that provided for me to do just that–plus, I wasn’t pulling in anything substantial being a seminarian with a part-time job working with the Doctor of Ministry Department. I have to tell you now, still holding that positive pregnancy test and knowing I would stay home with my future baby, I was naive, a bit taken with the rose-colored glasses of new, budding motherhood. It would take just a few days to realize that this entire endeavor would be hard.

Between battling morning sickness, hoping that my fellow classmates wouldn’t notice my new diet of seltzer and jolly ranchers, and suppressing fear that my body was (again) rejecting because I was spotting over half-way through the first trimester, I was tossed back and forth on the waves of reality setting in: I was not my own, my body was not my own, I was being broken.

As I grew bigger and more uncomfortable, as I pressed through exhaustion and discomfort to finish up my second to last semester of seminary, and this finally giving way to going into labor on the morning of the 5th of December. My son was born at 9:42pm on the 6th of December; yes, that’s about two days of trying to give birth to my son. I couldn’t do it. The unique thing my body was gifted to do, I couldn’t do. I was rushed to the ER after a contraction left my son’s heart rate too low. A week later I sat on the floor of our bathroom holding my just bathed 9lbs of baby boy in my lap. My husband looked at me, “Why are you crying?” he asked. “Because…I’m a failure,” I was able to articulate while crying. “How can you call yourself a failure while holding our son?” I didn’t have a good answer. What I knew was that a reality was being hammered home: I was not my own, my body was not my own, I was being broken.

This reality would be made more clear, in a physical way, as I embarked on nursing and raising not just this new born baby boy, but his little brother 21 months later, and their little sister born just about three years ago.

But looking back and looking at my current situation (a stay-at-home-mom to a toddler), I realize that it’s not merely my physical body that has been broken, time and time again. For the past decade I’ve sat on the academic and occupational side-lines. I’ve watched class-mates and peers graduate years after me in seminary, get ordained, get doctorates, move to other countries and back to the states and (in one case) back to another country. I’m here. In deciding to be embark on the parenting that I wanted for my children, I had to push all my other dreams and desires aside. My research is painfully slow, my writing interrupted, my attention divided. I wrestle internally with envy of my friends who have far surpassed me academically; I struggle with frustration with myself for being unable to do everything in the pace I want to do everything. As I wrangle my toddler into her room to finish her i’m-gonna-scream-so-loud-so-every-neighbor-in-the-neighborhood-hears tantrum, another peer wrestles with an editor/publisher over another book. In the fullness that is my mind and soul: I am not my own, my body is not my own, I am being broken.

I’m not saying any of this to garner sympathy or pity; I willingly volunteered my whole person to this vocation, to this process of being broken over and over and over again. I gave myself–body, mind, strength, soul–to be broken; to be broken for these children of mine. IMG_20160621_113610055 For these, my children, I lay aside myself, my dreams, my desires, daily, and give them as much of me as I can. For these, my children, I close Luther and open the screen door to go outside and blow bubbles for my daughter because she asked me to. I can’t do anything else, because I love them.

And in this I understand God’s love for us, his beloved children. In this, I understand why Mark records in his Gospel that when all the men ran when Jesus was crucified, the women who followed him looked on from a distance (Mk 15:40-41). I know they didn’t run because they were of low stature and had nothing to lose; but I also think that love that drives to the breaking of one’s own body made innate sense  to them. To look upon the crucified Christ, to see the blood shed because of love made sense on a visceral level to a bunch of women whose whole life was devoted to bearing and raising children through the breaking of their own bodies. It makes sense to me and it blows me away: He gave himself fully and completely for us in ways that I’ll never understand or be able to do because of my frail and faulty human flesh. His “I love you, my beloved child” is more heartfelt than mine to my own children.

And as they were eating, [Jesus] took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to them, and said, ‘Take; this is my body.’ And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, and they all drank of it. And he said to them, ‘This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many’ (Mark 14:22-24)

More than a mother loves her very own Children does God love us.

And I am undone, I am broken.

 

A Window into the Past: Women, Greco-Roman Society, and the Pastorals (part VII : 1Timothy 2:9-15)

LaurenRELarkin.com

I don’t know what I was thinking running this skimpy post; it’s like I was being lazy and quick. But, going back through this portion, I see that more needs to be said and  teased out to give you, the reader, a better understanding into why Paul is saying some of these things and the meaning behind what he’s saying. So, let me try writing this post again…

For information about the difference between the letters to persons and the letters to churches, click here; the intro to that post will provide you with information I should’ve provided here.

1 Tim. 2:8-15

I desire then that in every place the men should pray, lifting holy hands without anger or quarreling;likewise also that women should adorn themselves in respectable apparel, with modesty and self-control, not with braided hair and gold or pearls or costly attire,but with what is proper…

View original post 4,016 more words

A Window into the Past: Women, Greco-Roman Society, and the Pastorals (part VIII: 1 Tim. 5:9-16)

When I went to copy and paste this section (below) from my paper in to this post, I took a step back and noticed how lame this portion of my paper was. Not lame as in: not cool; but lame, as in: shoddy academic work. Yikes. This portion of scripture, after having studied it in greater depth a couple of years back, is powerful; the work I did on it in seminary doesn’t reflect that in the least. So, what was supposed to be a quick: copy, paste, edit, and release has turned in to a brand new portion of the paper. I will be relying heavily on Philip H. Towner’s TNICotNT commentary: The Letters to Timothy and Titus. It’s a work I highly recommend to anyone wanting to understand more about these short pastoral letters.

 

An interesting note, and not one that I think I’ve covered before, is that these letters (1 & 2 Timothy and Titus) are personal letters. When we read them, we need to look at them throw this lens, they weren’t written with the intent to be read to the congregation at large, like some of our other letters (Ephesians, Colossians, Galatians, Philippians, Thessalonians). These are letters to two people: Timothy and Titus. Reading these letters without taking into account that the author of the letter was writing as a father to his sons will deliver to the reader coal rather than the diamonds that they are.  So, these letters while powerful and deep in theology are also chock full of fatherly advice, loving given to ears that were tuned in to listen and receive.  You and I have those people in our lives that we consider to be as fathers and mothers, and they have the unique position to guide and direct us without causing offence because our hearts are oriented toward them and we know, maybe even first and foremost, that their’s are directed toward us. When we remove this facet of these letters and uniformly and coldly apply certain aspects and concepts broadly and beat our parishioners over the head with them, we will not only send the sheep scattering (a grave problem in and of itself), but we will also miss out on the depth and richness of the spiritual father and son relationship embedded in the letters and, thus, we will lose out personally and dare I say spiritually.

So, I cease my prattling; and continue to the previously scheduled post.

 

1 Tim. 5:9-16

Let a widow be enrolled if she is not less than sixty years of age, having been the wife of one husband, 10 and having a reputation for good works: if she has brought up children, has shown hospitality, has washed the feet of the saints, has cared for the afflicted, and has devoted herself to every good work.11 But refuse to enroll younger widows, for when their passions draw them away from Christ, they desire to marry 12 and so incur condemnation for having abandoned their former faith. 13 Besides that, they learn to be idlers, going about from house to house, and not only idlers, but also gossips and busy bodies, saying what they should not. 14 So I would have younger widows marry, bear children, manage their households, and give the adversary no occasion for slander. 15 For some have already strayed after Satan. 16 If any believing woman has relatives who are widows, let her care for them. Let the church not be burdened, so that it may care for those who are truly widows.

(To note, Timothy is serving in Ephesus. For a brief history of the cultural situation of Ephesus, click here.)

The process of taking care of widows is not a new development in Paul’s letters, specifically here.  The tradition of the Israelites made provisions for widows in their community; also, the ancient Greco-Roman legal system.  Winter writes,

The Graeco-Roman world sought to make sure that a widow had security by giving her shelter with her dowry in the household (oikos) of her elder son, her other sons of her father.  Someone in that social unity became ‘the lord of the dowry’ (kurios or tutor mulierum) and accepted responsibility for her financial support….In Athens there was not only a moral but also a legal obligation placed upon children to care for both parents, and failure to do rendered them liable to prosecution in which ‘the prosecutor ran no risk of punishment’.  The Roman woman had similar security (Winter 126).

vv.9-10.  Towner makes mention that the “enrollment” referred to in v.9 is enrollment on to a list, but, as he points out, “nothing in the term itself reveals how formal the procedure was or in what sort of group the process determined membership” (345).  Paul, specifically in v. 9 (and also in v.10), lays out the terms for being a “real” widow, the women who needed the church to step in and care for them; this is less about, according to Towner, what type of ministry the widows should take up within the church. He writes, “But references to activities in v.10 are backward reflections on activities that determine character, not references to ongoing service. Furthermore, given the typical life span of that culture and day, the age stipulation would mean that these real widows were int he closing years of their lives, not at a point in which to take up new ministries” (346).

Behind the mention of age, comes the widow’s life itself. Like all the other times Paul speaks about what qualifies someone for something, marital fidelity is high on the list. The widow was to be, to quote Towner, “‘a one-man woman'” (346). Why is this important? Winter describes that the secular literature and some ancient legal sources discuss the lifestyles lead by widows of the ancient society, “It descried their lifestyle as ‘behaving promiscuously’ (katastrayniasosin) (5:11), i.e., they were guilty of stuprum.*  Roman law used this term to describe the sexual indiscretions of single women, widows, and divorcees, rather than adulterium, which was the term reserved for the indiscretions of married women” (124).

Oh, Grandma!

In the list of what qualifies as “good works” (done in faith), rearing children falls first, “…since typically the widow’s sphere of activity would have been the home, Paul inquires about her skills as a parent (this begins the enumeration of the good deeds).  Raising children successfully was one of the marks of the ideal woman in the Greco-Roman and Jewish world…” (Towner 118). In other words, she did her duties as wife and mother, well. The mention of hospitality is as it sounds and not as some would want you to hear it (did that make sense?). This is not about the cleanliness or beauty of her home, but the openwardness of her heart toward traveling believers, that she conducted her self well as the matron of the house, that–in this act–furthered the church’s mission (Towner 347).

About “washed the feet of the saints”, Towner writes, “Probably, however, the references is to an act that became a symbol for humble service, its metaphorical extension being suggested by the general application here to ‘the saints'” (348). And “helping those in trouble” is a reference to her station (widowed) and her ability to now help those in need, she is “strategically placed to actively bring relief to the afflicted of the community” (348), and she is quite free to do so. And the final “devoted to all good works,” “…provides a last open-ended condition that describes the acts of service by which the ‘real widow’ will be known” (Towner 348). Far from being a list of ministerial duties for an “order” of widows, this list highlights that the only things that separates these women from the other godly women in the church are: age, death of her husband, and her destitution. For all intents and purposes, Paul is advising Timothy: her faith and the work of the Spirit in her life qualify her for enrollment.

vv.11-12 Who does not qualify? The younger widows. Who are they? The terminology should be understood as: any woman who is a widow yet still of re-marriageable age (Towner 349). Why? Libido. Towner writes, “The language implies that the young widows had adopted a lifestyle characterized by sexual misbehavior and that this negated their dedication to Christ (cf. 1 Cor 7:34)–that is, their lifestyle contradicted their profession of faith. This pursuit of promiscuous behavior is clearly thematic and strongly suggests involvement in the lifestyle of the ‘new woman'” (350). So, if you are a young widow and still in burning-age, then you are not only encouraged not to seek enrollment but the elders of the church are encouraged not to let you on the list… at all.

So, the young widow should remarry. But, the language Paul uses for the desire to remarry while “on the list” is rather negative; her desire to remarry will bring condemnation. Why is this? For having abandoned their former faith. What does this mean? There’s a lot written about why and how the why is formed, but for your sake (and because this is a blog post) I’ll skip to Towner’s conclusion, which I think suffices:

It is possible to construe the distinction as turning on the alleged ‘vow’ not to remarry: vv. 11-12 depict remarriage as vow breaking’; v. 14 depicts the remarriage of those who have not taken the vow. In such cases those encouraged to remarry in v.14 are only those young widows who have not taken the ‘vow.’ But it seems far less complicated to reconcile the two views of remarriage around the issue of marriage to unbelievers, in keeping with earlier Pauline instructions (cf. 1 Cor. 7:39). Apparently, Paul envisions young widows led by their enjoyment of promiscuous behavior to marry unbelievers. Since typically the wife would adopt the religion of the husband, remarriage to unbelievers would involve actual rejection of the widow’s ‘first/prior faith in (commitment to) Christ.’ Indeed, Winter suggest that abandoning their Christian faith may have been a precondition of marriage to unbelievers. When Paul turns to encourage young widows to remarry in v. 14, he assumes marriage to believers (352).

 

It’s a rather merciful move on Paul’s part here in his advice to Timothy. By not accepting young widows on to the widows list and avoiding a vow to celibacy (as the requirement for her to be on the list is: no husband)–a vow which may be broken because of her marriageable age and her desire to marry–Paul seems to be protecting the young widows from falling from the faith.  If we look at it like this, I might be able to shed more light on the subject: if there is an existent atmosphere of promiscuousness within the culture at large, then those who have taken a vow of not engaging sexually and who are now feeling the overwhelming desire to engage sexually would be more likely to stray outside the church to fulfill their desires, thus denounce their faith and marry an unbeliever. The condemnation brought by the law in facing our temptations forces us into the dark and not into the light. So, by way of eliminating the presence of that law–a law that very well would be difficult for a young widow to fulfill  and, thus, bring death (because of her natural desires)–Paul offers her freedom and life. Freedom because she is free to burn and to remarry all within the church community (without shame) and wind up marrying a believer; life because now she won’t stray to marry an unbeliever (because of her shame).

v. 13  Young widows are excluded from the list not only because of the high chance they’ll burn and want to remarry and thus abandon their faith, but also because of their tendency to be idle, to gossip, and to be busybodies.

Ouch, Paul. Just…ouch.

At first glance, my feminist leanings get quite agitated. But, looking a bit more astutely, the reasons behind why Paul is saying what he’s saying are sound and probably are more based on his understanding human depravity rather than, strictly, womanhood.

Let’s look at this. What happens to you when you have no responsibilities and are bored? It’s a fair question. What happens to me is this: candy crush….oh! And, candy crush soda saga…yeah…annnnd…anything else that will alleviate my boredom but is not “work.” Without the internal nagging or the external need of something that has to be done (and even sometimes when there is that internal nag and external need), I will fill my time with fluff, or worse…your fluff. For all intents and purposes, an idle lauren is a dangerous lauren.

And so it goes for Paul and the young widows.  Towner writes,

…’idleness’ is described as something that has been learned, the die being that their enjoyment of church support with little to do has left them with time on their hands.

Their idleness or lack of direction is described as ‘going about from house to house.’…without household responsibility to occupy their time, these young widows were moving through the household terrain where they felt comfortable and had easy access. Probably one of Paul’s concerns was for the power they could exert among the women of the household with whom they would have chatted and gossiped. As C. Osiek suggests, this segment of the social structure (women in the household) operated according to its own rules of honor and shame, were adept at keeping confidences, and represented an influential power bloc that could determine or, equally, threaten the community’s stability (353).

An idle widow, is a dangerous widow.

And, to complete the picture, their idleness and flitting leads to gossiping, busybodiness, and saying things that should not be said. Gossiping we understand. Busybodiness is akin to being nebby (if you’re from Pittsburgh) or, for everyone else: meddling. The last phrase is a bit more opaque in meaning. There is the hint of teaching in the Greek, but that shouldn’t be over-stressed; if it’s anything, it’s casual conversation that might, in the slightest, be a means for learning something. But one of the best ways to understand what those things are that should not be said is: “spreading (perhaps inadvertently) elements of the false teaching as they went from house to house” (Towner 355).

v.14 So, the young widows are encouraged to marry, have kids, and manage their household (the greek verb implying “ruler of the house” and carries with it a great deal of authority (Towner 356)). And in so doing, give the adversary no room for slander.  What does this mean? Towner explains,

But the final prepositional phrase is causal and is better taken as explaining the potential cause/source of the opportunity Paul seeks to prevent; thus ‘give no opportunity to the enemy on account of reviling.’ In this case, an additional agent is implied, that is, some unnamed agent responsible for the act of reviling. This will be a person or people since the term used to describe the verbal attacks envisioned here is used o fpeople. Presumably, Paul means those outside the community, and he therefore has the church’s public reputation in mind (356-7).

The singular (“the adversary” or “the enemy”) is best understood as Satan, “…who operates against the community in concert with the criticism of those outside (as in 1 Tim 3:7; cf. Rev 12:10)” (357). And, as in most other places where Paul speaks about “roles” or “house-codes,” his biggest concern is the promulgation of the gospel and protecting the church, “…protection of the church’s reputation in the world has the promotion of the gospel as a significant goal” (357).  In all things, this should always be our goal as faithful believers–men and women. It’s a sober reminder: the proclamation of the gospel should always be my first and main priority, above and beyond any of my other personal interests and leanings.

v.15 The strong exhortative language from v.14 culminates (in my opinion) in v.15: because we’ve already lost some who have strayed after Satan. Turning away from Christ is turning toward Satan, “Paul’s employment of the polemical vocabulary reserved for the false teachers places their fall into the category of a ‘turning away’ from the apostolic faith (see 1:6), that is, apostasy…by pursuing a lifestyle marked by sexual promiscuity and rejection of traditional values (vv.11-13) they have endangered themselves and potentially the church’s reputation” (Towner 358).

v.16 Here Paul returns to the primary concern of the pericope: caring for widows (358).  Those women who had the means (financially and situationally) to care for the widows should do so. “If women take on the responsibility of helping widows, then the church (1) will be freed of the responsibility (‘burden’) to do so, and (2) thus enabled to care for the community’s ‘real widows'” (Towner 359).

In conclusion, I’ll quote Towner:

Paul walks the fine line between dealing with what might be regarded as a church-specific problem and the wider society’s evaluation of the church. The bottom line is that in this case, too, behavior adopted in the church or sanction by the church ultimately affects how those on the outside reared the church. In the case of the Ephesian widows–both from the perspective of the obligation of families to meet their needs and the perspective of how young widows live their lives–Imperial culture stood ready to evaluate the respectability of what would be perceived as Christian behavior (359-60).

It is always my opinion that in these portions of scripture, Paul’s first and primary concern is the proclamation of the gospel. When we begin to look at these passages of scripture through this lens, then what is exhorted takes on a life in it’s proper historic time period and also provides for us good markers to live by. None of this is about what a good woman who is widowed should do to be righteous or to be deemed a good woman, but about how she should act to protect the Gospel.

 

*”STUPRUM, civ. law. The criminal sexual intercourse which took place between a man and a single woman, maid or widow,who before lived honestly. Inst. 4, 18, 4; Dig. 48, 5, 6; Id. 50, 16, 101; 1 Bouv. Inst. Theolo. ps. 3, quaest. 2, art. 2, p. 252.” Taken from: http://legal-dictionary.thefreedictionary.com/Stuprum

A Window into the Past: Women, Greco-Roman Society, and the Pastorals (part VII : 1Timothy 2:9-15)

I don’t know what I was thinking running this skimpy post; it’s like I was being lazy and quick. But, going back through this portion, I see that more needs to be said and  teased out to give you, the reader, a better understanding into why Paul is saying some of these things and the meaning behind what he’s saying. So, let me try writing this post again…

For information about the difference between the letters to persons and the letters to churches, click here; the intro to that post will provide you with information I should’ve provided here.

1 Tim. 2:8-15

I desire then that in every place the men should pray, lifting holy hands without anger or quarreling; likewise also that women should adorn themselves in respectable apparel, with modesty and self-control, not with braided hair and gold or pearls or costly attire, but with what is proper for women who profess godliness—with good works. Let a woman learn quietly with all submissiveness. I do not permit a woman to teach or to exercise authority over a man; rather, she is to remain quiet. For Adam was formed first, then Eve; and Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor. Yet she will be saved through childbearing—if they continue in faith and love and holiness, with self-control.

To note, Timothy is serving in Ephesus. For a brief history of the cultural situation of Ephesus, click here.

v.8 I’ve included verse 8 in this post even though it doesn’t particularly deal with women specifically. Verse 8 shows us that what follows in vv. 9-15 is part of a larger concern: behavior in the public worship assembly (Towner). When we forget that it’s part of a larger passage dealing with a bigger concept and ONLY focus on what Paul says to women, we will, in my opinion, forgo a richer reading of the text, we’ll miss out on Paul’s main concern and open ourselves up to seeing Paul strictly in a misogynistic light or we’ll create blanket statements/laws about women and what they should be wearing at all times.  “[T]his span of text  is not an addendum treating a separate topic; it occurs within the textual frame indicated by the key ethical term ‘propriety’ in vv. 9 and 15…and within the cultural frame of the expectations governing the behavior of women in public” (Towner 190). Why does Paul care so much about propriety of women (and men) withing the worship service? Let me quote Towner,

The point is this: the activities that combined to forma Christian worship meeting were essentially, therefore, public, and it is precisely the public nature of the activities addressed in 2:8-15 and the reactions of observing outsiders that concerned Paul (191

It may have been mentioned elsewhere in this series, but, nonetheless, it bears being repeated: the worship services typically occurred in houses, and in the common gathering area of the house which was visible (very visible) from the street. Outsiders could easily witness a Christian worship service. So, for Paul, any aspect of the worshipers or the worshiping that would have had deleterious effects on the proclamation of the Gospel was quashed as fast as possible through exhortation. So, when we isolate the passage on women from this overarching point, we will not only be subjecting ourselves and others to horrible eisegesis, but also losing out on the rather egalitarian and progressive trajectory of Paul’s teaching. We’ll take something that’s relatively descriptive and make it prescriptive <—that always causes problems!

So, on to the body of our text

vv. 9-10.  Interestingly enough (at least to me) is that our pericope starting at v.9 starts with the word: “likewise.” And, grammatically, is not really a new thought. Why is this interesting? I’ll tell you: it means that the verbal idea of the previous statement (in v.8) should be carried over into v.9.

The housecode transition marker, ‘likewise’…shifts attention to the second member of the pair. At the same time, it requires that the previous verb of command (‘I wish’), or possibly the larger verbal idea including ‘prayer,’ be carried over. IN the latter case, the assumption is that the unifying or thematic factor is ‘prayer,’ so that Paul is ultimately concerned with the manner and outward demeanor in which this activity is carried out in the worship meeting by both men and women (Towner 204).

It’s also important to note that both vv. 9 and 15 have contain the word that is translated as “propriety” or “self-control.” So, our passive (vv. 9-15) is bracketed by the exhortation for women to have “self-control,” as if the exhortation is not to give into the New Roman Woman’s pagan pull of fashions, fads, and fancies. As noted in an earlier post, one of the feminine virtues of the Greco-Roman woman was “self-control.”  Winter writes,

 

[v.]9…requires the wife to adorn herself with that great Roman feminine virtue of ‘chastity’ or ‘self-control’ that is often translated as ‘moderation’ … the Latin equivalent being prudential.  It was the cardinal virtue for women in the ancient world.  Phintys, in a treatise ‘on Woman’s Moderation’, wrote, ‘The virtue most appropriate to a woman is self-control … because the author argued that it enabled her to love and honour her husband.  This was the virtue that epitomized the discreet matron and was lauded on the tombstones of women (Winter 102).

Self-control provided a realm in which women, within the society, were to operate to their fullest; Paul’s intent is to provide a freedom from the entrapments of society. Towner offers,

The importance of ‘self-control’ in the present discussion can be seen from the way it brackets this parenesis to women…moreover, its currency in the secular discourse gives it double value for Paul, who with it calls Christian wives away from the popular [New Roman Woman] movement and to an expression of Christian life that is chracaterized by Spirit-inspired ‘self-control’ (206).

Winter offers his reader a portion of a letter from Seneca to his mother (A.D. 41-49), which provides a good example of the proper 1 Tim. 2 woman,

‘Unchastity, the greatest evil of our time, has never classed you with the great majority of women.  Jewels have not moved you, nor pearls…you have not been perverted by the imitation of worse kind of women that leads even the virtuous into pitfalls….You have never blushed for the number of children, as if it mocked your age….You never tried to conceal your pregnancy as through it was indecent, nor have you crushed the hope of children that were being nurtured in your body.  You have never defiled your face with paints and cosmetics.  Never have you fancied the kind of dress the exposed no greater nakedness by being removed.  Your only ornament, the kind of beauty that time does not tarnish, is the great honour of modesty (Winter 98).

Plutarch praises his wife who lived a ‘discreet’ life, “Your plainness of attire and sober style of living without exception amazed every philosopher who has shared our society and intimacy; neither is there any townsman of ours to whom you do not offer another spectacle—your own simplicity” (Winter 106-7).  Winter writes, “Seneca…bears witness to the great social pressure that these new mores [of the New Roman Woman] exerted on his mother and other modest wives in the time of Claudius” (Winter 99).  Commenting on the hetairai (Shameful Woman), Winter writes, “McGinn has documented the immodest dresses, outlandish hairstyles, and lavish jewellery including gold and pearls which distinguished the hetairai from the modest wives in first-century society….” (Winter 100).

To ensure that women would comprehend (and obey) how to dress and wear their hair, Roman Society, in response to the New Roman Woman, displayed statues, “…which epitomized the modest wife and were worn by members of the imperial family.  These statues were replicated through the Empire and represented ‘fashion icons’ to be copied by modest married women.  Juvenal confirms this when he asks, ‘What woman will not follow when an empress leads the way?’” (Winter 104).  Along with clothing and hair, jewelry was also to be worn in moderation, quoting Juvenal, Winter offers his reader, “There is nothing that a woman will not permit herself to do, nothing that she deems shameful, when she encircled her neck with green emeralds, and fastens huge pearls to her elongated ears….” (Winter 104).  Also, “The law of Syracusans had stipulated that ‘a woman should not wear gold or a flowery dress or have clothes with purple unless she accepted the name of a public hetairai.  Dalbly notes, ‘This Greek phrase, “dresses and gold” is the standard statement of the two accoutrements of a hetaira’” (Winter 105).

Braided hair (“plaiting and piling” hair on the top of the head (Townder 208)), gold and pearls, costly attire all speak to the fact that Paul is addressing the wealthier women in the church. Women of means often bucked the modest Imperial style wanting to show their wealth (Townder 208-9); they were also prone to (by having the means) adopting new fashions and trends, especially those of the New Roman woman. Braids aren’t bad, jewelry isn’t bad, dressing well isn’t bad, but the question that Paul is asking is: what are you trying to communicate and is that message hindering or supporting the proclamation of the gospel?

[Paul’s] critique is precise. It prohibits the kind the dress and adornment that would associate Christian women with the revolutionary ‘new woman’ already in evidence in the East. Were that connection to be made, the Church wold be open to allegations of endorsing this departure from traditional values (209).

And, rather than flashy, showy, ostentatious outer adornment, the Christian woman should adorn herself with good works. But before we all go running for the hills because of the words good works, let me offer this insight to calm our nerves: this adornment is the same adornment that brings praise to the Proverbs 31 woman. Oh no, now I’ve certainly sent you running for the hills. But wait! Look at this:

Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain,
    but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
Give her of the fruit of her hands,
    and let her works praise her in the gates. (Prov. 31:30-1)

That “fear of the Lord” there in v. 30, is none other but FAITH. Faith brings honor and praise to the noble woman of Proverbs 31. Thus, faith in our passage in 1 Tim 2, is also what (should be) the adorning characteristic of the Christian woman. It’s faith (in Jesus Christ) that will work itself out in good deeds done for others (Towner 210). So, you can not braid your hair, avoid gold and pearls, and dress in burlap, but if you lack faith you still lack the right adornment; all your works in modesty is for naught. “In Paul’s formulation of the concept the inner reality (knowledge of God, faith) and outer action come together in a life of service in accordance with God’s truth” (Towner 210). And when you are thinking about what type of “good works” faith produces in the life of the believer (regardless of gender), keep in mind the fruit of the spirit: “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law” (Gal 5:22-3). 

vv.11  Winter describes The Stoics view on the education of daughters as essential to the moral development that is inherent in learning, also “…[for] the embracing…of the cardinal virtues and the importance of avoiding the cardinal vices….” (Winter 112).  Submission would have been one of those core virtues taught to daughters.  Men were superior to women; therefore, women were inherently inferior to men and therefore in a subordinate position.  However, Paul’s call for submission is different and, as we find out, extremely counter-cultural.  “The sentence reads literally, ‘the wife in silence must learn in all subordination (“Gunay en haysuxia manthaneto en pasay hupotagay“)Had it meant to indicate that she was in a ‘subordinate position’ then the Greek would have been [en jupotagay, notice the missing “pasay“], as, for example in a third-century-A.D. papyrus” (Winter 114, inserted thought, mine). It’s important to notice that in this passage “submission” is not to her husband, but to what is being taught.

Towner points out that the terms “quietly” and “submissiveness” means

…quiet and attentive listening (in quietness) and complete (‘all’) acceptance o the authority of the teacher to teach and the willingness to embrace what was being taught. As applied here, both ‘quietness’ an d’subjection’ related to the teaching situation, not to life and relationships in general: together these stipulations describe the learner (wife or husband, woman or man) in contrast ot the teacher, and within a community authority structure (216)

This quiet and submitted posture is the posture we should all have when learning about the Gospel and what Jesus Christ has done for us. It’s not to say that all leaders/teachers are never to be doubted, but that someone who does have the authority to teach and is teaching what is true, that person should be listened to. On the flip side, no person in authority should demand to be heard because they are in authority or should they beat the sheep over the head with their authority. It’s a checks and balances relationship, in my opinion: when authority is abusive it should be disrespected, but not all authority should be disrespected and shunned.

v.12 Possibly one of the most troubling verses I encounter when looking at the housecodes in Paul’s writing. But, face it we must and we’ve no reason to run. Let’s take it concept by concept. First, “I do not permit a woman to teach.” Linguistically I’ve always liked reading this as Paul’s opinion emphasizing the “I.” But that’s bad form on my part. That would render the text as being unimportant, and important it is! What’s interesting, certainly, is that whenever Paul refers to something as doctrine, something that has been handed down and is irrefutable, he’ll say (something like): the saying is trustworthy and worthy of full acceptance. He uses this language earlier in 1 Tim to explain why Jesus came: to save sinners of whom he (Paul) is the foremost. That tenet of our faith is to be received without question or doubt. It. Is. So. But here, he doesn’t use a phrase like that, so this isn’t doctrine that’s been handed down or to be received without doubt. Towner says that the way Paul phrases this injunction one of two things, “…[it expresses] either a new command that does not rely on tradition or an ad hoc solution to a newly encountered situation” (217). But why is Paul restricting the teaching office? Let me quote Towner:

I would nonetheless suggest that three convergent forces lie behind Paul’s prohibition of women from teaching. First, whether owing directly or indirectly to the false teachers, some wealthy women had come under the influence of a too fully realized eschatology [1 Tim 6:20-21]. Second, they may well have been encouraged to step into the rollse of teacher by some element of the heresey. It can hardly be accidental that Paul encourages the domestic path of childbearing (v.15) while the false teachers prohibited marriage (4:3, sexual relations). Third, coincidentally adding momentum was their contact with the cultural trend of the new Roman woman (219-20)

Heresy just won’t fly with Paul. And any influence heresy might have or find way into the proclamation of the Gospel will call for a restriction of any type. An uneducated person, someone who doesn’t understand or know what they believe and why they believe it, will be fertile ground for heresy. And if that person is given the ability to teach others, that heresy will, like a deadly airborne virus, swiftly take others down with it. When Paul restricts women from the teaching office, it’s less to do with some inherent inability to teach on the woman’s part or some random concept that the Spirit only gives the teaching gift to men or somehow only men are tuned in to intricate concepts of theology. When Paul restricts women, specifically these women, it’s because they weren’t educated properly and had learning to do (thus the final request for them to learn in quietness repeated in v.12). Just like it wasn’t that Adam listened to his wife, but that he listened to what she said.  Women can teach and should teach, but only when they’ve been properly educated; and the same goes for men. A good teacher is one who is both called/gifted and trained.

Now, what about “or to exercise authority over a man”? Well, it’s really important to point out that the Greek word translated here as “excercise authority” is NOT the typical word Paul uses when speaking about authority (which is excousia). The word use here is authenteo and, according to Towner, carries with it a wide range of meanings. But, interestingly, the word carries with it a negative connotation. To keep this dialogue short, or, rather, to get to the point, the word is better understood as authority with the intent to dominate. These women may have assumed the teaching role and were domineering and disrespectful to men/their husbands. Gospel freedom never manifests itself in the movement of one gender dominating another. Gospel freedom does not now advocate for women to dominate men (payback’s a …. ) since men dominated women. Gospel freedom DOES bring us all into a right orientation toward each other in which is the working out of loving our neighbors as ourselves. So, for Paul, there’s NO ROOM for domination of any kind (cf. all of Eph. 5).

So, what do we take away from this verse? Paul is, once again, protecting the proclamation of the Gospel and if it means that some people are silenced (for a time being) then he would take that action to silence them. Was it forever? Was it to be turned into a command forever prohibiting women from teaching or assuming a role of authority over men? No, not in  my opinion or others’ on this very subject. It was situational.

v.13-14  You know what I said about v. 12 being the most troublesome to me? I take that back. These next three verses (or two and a half, if you will) cause me loads of grief. Why does Paul call on Gen 2 and Gen 3 to defend why women shouldn’t be teaching or having authority over  men? Towner offers one idea that Paul’s movement to use Gen 2 & 3 in his argument was to “combat a specific view or correct an interpretation of the creation account somehow linked with the false teaching” (228). He explains,

[Paul] may have been looking in two directions at once–toward heretical developments and cultural influences. Some wealthy wives/women either emerged as teachers, or were functioning in such a way in the church’s public assembly that they would be regards as teachers, and teaching in a way that abused authority and disrespected husbands/men. A heretical reading of the creation story somehow support their progressive, role-reversal inclinations. Paul’s response was to prohibit these wives from teaching and to refute the fallacious reading of Genesis (232-3)

This isn’t about women just being more inclined to being duped (this would indicate a fault in God’s creation of woman) but rather to her station and situation at the time: she was prone to believing false teaching because she was educated improperly. Just as, in Gen 3, a valid argument is that Eve’s misquote of the law suggests she wasn’t taught correctly by Adam. Women how are taught well and do know what they believe and why they believe, those women who grasp well and are gifted to communicate all that is the truth of God acting for us through Christ and His life, death, resurrection, and ascension, have every right to be teaching and leading (having authority not domination). Just as a man who is not well taught and doesn’t know what he believes or why he believes it shouldn’t be teaching and leading. Had those women been teaching the gospel, the doctrine of the justification of sinners, and exercising authority in a loving manner, I doubt Paul would’ve penned any of this. Something was awry and amiss and the Gospel was at stake, so Paul picked up his pen and wrote.

v.15 This verse is hard to comprehend.  What is Paul trying to communicate in his words?  Winter, quoting Kostenberger, suggests that the phrase translated here as “‘saving through’…‘should be understood as a reference to the woman’s escape or preservation from a danger by means of childbearing’” (qtd. in Winter 110).  Winter proceeds by discussing the grammatical construction, “The use of the article in ‘the childbearing’ together with the preposition dia. with the genitive suggest that it is through the process of childbearing that she is preserved.  The use of this construction indicates ‘throughout’ or ‘through the course of’ and is well attested in Classical and Koine Greek, and confirms that the phrase should be rendered ‘through the childbearing, i.e., the pregnancy’” (Winter 110). Winter proposes that since that society was so consumed with feminine beauty—referring to Seneca’s comments on the indulgent use of cosmetics (99)—that pregnancy was actually a stigma for those who were pregnant (99).  Referring to Seneca’s comments, Winter writes, “[Seneca] graphically describes steps taken by others to prevent [pregnancy from] happening” (99).

Was it possible to avoiding child bearing in the ancient Greco-Roman society?  Yes, it was possible to avoid pregnancy and also to have an abortion in ancient times (Winter 110).  Evidence of this practice is primarily seen in a quote from Ovid.

She who first began the practice of tearing out her tender progeny deserved to die in her own warfare.  Can it be that, to be free of the flaws of stretch marks, you have to scatter the tragic sans of carnage?  Why will you subject your womb to the weapons of abortion and five dread poisons to the unborn?  The tigress lurking in Armenia does not such thing, nor does the lioness dare destroy her young.  Yet tender girls do so—though not with impunity; often she who kills what is in  her womb dies herself (Winter 110).

Towner writes,

Willingness to become pregnant (and perhaps to see it through to childbirth) was apparently a very real concern. Whether or not the term teknogonia (‘childbearing, pregnancy’) is meant to typify the whole of the domestic life (bearing children and raising them), the appended phrase (v.15b) with its final reiteration of ‘self-control’ (cf. v.9) effectively widens the scope to include the respectable wife’s proper attention to household responsibilities. Bearing children will not be a means of earning salvation, and it is doubtful if ‘saving’ means simply physical safety through childbirth. Rather, Paul urges these Christian wives to re-engage fully in the respectable role of the mother, in rejection of heretical and secular trends, through which she may ‘work out her salvation (235).

I think both Winter and Towner have valid points. In the time that Paul is writing an abortion was no safe matter and was almost certain death. But, also the concept Towner offers is worth taking into consideration, specifically in terms of the proclamation of the Gospel. Looking at the way he does, all of this means that Gospel freedom (as mentioned above) does not mean I abandon those orientations and relations I have been given. As a woman and one attracted to men, I married a man, and we had kids. The gospel–the way I understand it–and the faith I have in Jesus Christ, move me toward my neighbor in love and service not away from them. For me, and my station in life, my closest and most important neighbors are my husband and children and from there the circles ripple outward eventually incorporating all of humanity. And while I do believe that Gospel radically changes and affects our daily lives, giving us immeasurable freedom through faith in Christ, I also know that the effects of Gen 3 still loom heavy in the atmosphere. There are things, people, situations that demand from me something that infringes on other things that I’d like to do or be doing  on my freedom to do those very things. Because I live in a fallen world, I can’t have my cake and eat it to. When I had kids, my academic work slowed; i had to sacrifice one, and the way I’m inclined to parent that meant my academic work took the hit. Most of my male peers have started and completed PhDs while I’m still working on part two of section of the rough draft of my dissertation. Sacrifice in the face of a broken and fallen world isn’t a bad, four-letter word, it’s love.

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 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).