Thought for the Day: Dear Evangelicals

To my Evangelical friends out there: Since we are not saved by good works, why should we be damned for bad ones? If salvation really is all about grace through faith, and all fall short, isn't it time to get over worrying about other people’s sins and give thanks for amazing grace?

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

A Question of Authority

Over at the House of Bishops/Deputies Listserv a discussion started concerning the so-called “supremacy” or “authority” of Scripture — particularly in relation to which leg of Hooker’s putative three-legged stool constituted the greatest “authority.” It is commonly asserted, for example, that reason cannot trump Scripture. This notion runs contrary to one of Hooker’s basic principles: that reason is a necessary implement without which Scripture cannot fruitfully be used. He also said,

The force of arguments drawn from the authority of Scripture itself, as Scriptures commonly are alleged, shall (being sifted) be found to depend upon the strength of this so much despised and debased authority of man? Surely it doth, and that oftener than we are aware of... Even such as are readiest to cite for one thing five hundred sentences of holy Scripture; what warrant have they, that any one of them doth mean the thing for which it is alleged? Is not their surest ground most commonly, either some probable conjecture of their own, or the judgment of others taking those Scriptures as they do?... That some things which they maintain, as far as some men can probably conjecture, do seem to have been out of Scripture not absurdly gathered. Is this a warrant sufficient for any man’s conscience...? (Lawes, II.VII.8)

So which is of the greater “authority”?

From my perspective, before such a question can be answered, we have to say what we mean by “authority.” I have long used the definition, “the capacity to issue commands with a reasonable expectation they will be followed.”

With that in mind, my view is that Scripture is not a source of “authority.” (Any more that “Reason” is — Reason is how we think, a tool, a method, not a “source of authority” in and of itself. As for Tradition, I’d say it is also not an authority, but a record of previous decisions, all of them subject to re-examination and change by the real authority — the church. But I'm getting ahead of myself.)

So back to Scripture. It is — as it calls itself, or as it has been called for so very long — testimony or covenant. It is evidence presented for our acceptance, or something to which we agree to bind ourselves. The fact that our acceptance or agreement is voluntary rather than coerced indicates that this is not a question of authority, but of relationship.

As testimony, the Scripture functions in the way any good prophet or witness would — pointing not to itself but to God. It is a “ministering (ev)angel” and a servant of God sent to tell us certain truths about God. This is the whole point of “revelation.” But Scripture is not that to which it points. It is not God.

It is obvious that the Scripture does contain a number of commands issued with an expectation that they will be obeyed — and in many cases presented as the commands of God. But the interpretation and implementation of those commands — even those from God — are under the church’s authority. The church believes itself to be competent to amend or even to set aside some of these commands — even divine commands. (One of the things that brings discredit on churches — even some of the most fundamentalist — is their pledge of allegiance to inerrancy of Scripture or “sola Scriptura” combined with their manifest failure always to abide by “plain readings,” or their inconsistent or selective application of Scripture to situations and circumstances. I have no beef with Orthodox Jews who really do attempt to live by the Law as closely as they are able; or the few Christian sects who actually do attempt to live a first-century life of apostolic simplicity — but the demonstrable inconsistency of most evangelicals and fundamentalists is simply scandalous — in the classic sense.)

The fact is, most Christian churches do interpret and apply the Scripture — demonstrating their decisive authority over it. Various criteria have been provided for making such decisions over the years — beginning with the earliest understanding that Jesus himself had set aside the dietary commandments (a setting aside which Peter seems to have been unwilling to adopt until his vision of the sheet let down from heaven — a vision he soon came to understand wasn’t about food at all).

The Apostles later set aside the whole of the Law — for Gentiles — except for provisions either designed to maintain table-fellowship, or as part of the Noachide tradition (these are two prevailing theories — though I have argued in Reasonable and Holy that in setting aside the Jewish Law they understood that Gentiles still had to forgo things already forbidden under Gentile law, such as murder or adultery, but only felt the need to add to the list of forbidden actions permitted to Gentiles under their law, such as idolatry and eating blood).

The early and later church exercised its authority and further finessed these understandings. The Church of Rome has long, and rightly, and bluntly, asserted its authority over Scripture. Anglicans came up with the fudgy notion concerning authority in rites and ceremonies, but also in fact felt free to, and did, alter moral teachings — and to be fully above-board and frank, the “testimony” of Scripture itself does not make such distinctions concerning its laws. (Even amongst the Ten Commandments — the only portion of the Law considered to have been written with God’s own hand — the Law of the Sabbath is plainly “ritual.” And, in fact, the church felt free to alter the observance of the Sabbath by a day, and now scarcely holds a memory of the fact that, biblically speaking, Sabbath-breaking is a capital offense!)

All of this indicates that the real authority is the church — whether it wants to make this a matter of stated doctrine, as Rome does, or fudge it as Anglicans do. The church makes the decisions on the meaning and application of Scripture. And by “church” I mean any church that declares itself to be such. There is no “authority” to gainsay such actions, since the demise of the coercive power of a church in league with the secular arm of its nation or empire to require obedience on threat of punishment or death. Some may bemoan that fact, but that it is a fact is incontestable.

So, in short, I think the word “authority” should be retired when referring to Scripture. I prefer to stick with the classical Anglican understanding of “sufficiency” unto salvation, the end to which it was given by God.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

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Faithful Readings

I would like to conclude my response to Ephraim Radner’s review of Reasonable and Holy with a few comments on his views of my biblical hermeneutic. Perhaps the strangest thing in this strange review is that Radner appears not to recognize what I am doing as entirely within the range of the classical Biblical interpretation. I suspect his assumption must be something like, “If your result disagrees with the doctrinal tradition, then your technique or method must diverge from the exegetical tradition.” I may be putting words into his mouth, but this is the only premise that can make sense of his further comments. Taken on its own, as a premise, it is clearly false, as many people using identical exegetical methods, at various stages in the history of engagement with Scripture, have come to very different conclusions as to its meaning and application.

However, the least accurate characterization Radner makes of my biblical approach is to call it “Liberal Protestantism.” Liberal, perhaps, but only in the sense that Richard Hooker was liberal in comparison with Walter Travers. Protestant, but only in the sense of the classical Anglicanism of the Elizabethan Settlement, or the Evangelicalism of Luther, and certainly not in the mid-19th to mid-20th century meaning of the word. If seeking a cohesive message from Scripture — such as my own that its sufficient purpose is salvation through grace by faith in Christ (an aim Radner seems to find less than fruitful, as he puts save in scare-quotes!) — then he is equally guilty of such an appeal, when he criticizes me for not developing a “larger scriptural vision” along the lines of John Paul II. If anything, Radner’s approach, and what he appears to be asking me to do, is more along the lines of the liberal protestant academy of the late 19th century.

To take one example, which I referred to in the earlier post: Radner accuses me (I think) of misrepresenting Rob Gagnon on the question of Jesus’ use of porneiai. Here is Radner:

...On the issue of whether Jesus actually says anything about homosexuality, [Haller] attacks Gagnon on his reading of porneiai in Mark 7:21ff. as possibly implying homosexual practice.

Haller provides some straightforward initial questions, ones that are worth noting, and then pursues his general theme of same-sex references in the Bible as being primarily aimed at cultic prostitution. One might think that Gagnon is a rather silly man on this basis. But the reader is never told that Gagnon himself doesn’t put much weight on the very argument Haller attacks (half a paragraph, on a verse he questions as “authentically” Jesus’ in any case), while Haller, on the other hand, deals with the question at length (four pages).

First of all, to the accuracy of Radner’s characterization of Gagnon. From his reference to my book, one would think this was Gagnon’s only statement on what Jesus thought about homosexuality. In fact, it is the only text Gagnon can attempt to twist so as to put an actual condemnation of homosexuality (in his mind) into Jesus’ mouth. Gagnon, after all, is capable of such astounding statements as, “Jesus, both in what he says, and what he fails to say, remains squarely on the side of those who reject homosexual practice.” (B&HP, 228, emphasis mine) So much for actual fidelity to the text! However, I was addressing Gagnon’s earlier statement:

...No first-century Jew could have spoken of porneiai (plural) without having in mind the list of forbidden sexual offenses in Leviticus 18 and 20 (incest, adultery, same-sex intercourse, bestiality). The statement underscores that sexual behavior does matter. If Jesus made this remark, he undoubtedly would have understood homosexual behavior to be included among the list of offenses. (ibid. 191-2)

Contrary to Radner’s assertion, Gagnon expresses no doubt whatsoever that porneiai “undoubtedly” includes “homosexual behavior.” In addition, Gagnon holds very lightly indeed any doubt he may have that this verse is an actual statement by Jesus (“If Jesus made this remark...”) — for Gagnon, Jesus damns if he does say it, and damns if he doesn’t. This is a bizarre combination of Jesus Seminar color-coding and pure eisegesis — hardly what I would call sound scholarship. And yet this passage from Gagnon is quoted widely as a definitive summary of Jesus’ position on the subject, including in the Church of England’s House of Bishops’ position paper, Some Issues in Human Sexuality. Do I think Gagnon a “rather silly man.” No, but perhaps a dangerous one, whose agenda is at all costs to spin either what the Scripture says or what it doesn’t into an overarching message of disapprobation.

+ + +

I, too, of course, do have a “larger Scriptural vision,” though it may be that Radner cannot grasp it because he doesn’t share it. He dismisses my hermeneutic based on the “Summary of the Law” as if it were not in fact “a consistent moral ‘principle’ (discerned somehow as divine)” by which we are to understand the Scripture. I think that is exactly what it is, and from the mouth of Jesus himself.

This view is not some modern concoction out of Liberal Protestantism, as Radner thinks, nor is it a means simply to dispose of difficult passages, but the means to place them in their proper perspective in the over-all plan of salvation. This principle of biblical interpretation is the basis of Jesus’ and Paul’s own engagement with Scripture — and it is the font that waters the best reflections of the early church. As Saint Augustine put it,

Whoever, then, thinks that he understands the Holy Scriptures, or any part of them, but puts such an interpretation upon them as does not tend to build up the twofold love of God and neighbor, does not yet understand them as he ought. If, on the other hand, a man draws a meaning from them that may be used for the building up of love, even though he does not happen upon the precise meaning which the author whom he reads intended to express in that place, his error is not pernicious, and he is wholly clear from the charge of deception. (On Christian Doctrine 1.36[40])

As Augustine later says, it is better to be accurate than not, and error should be corrected. But let the correction itself by clear and sound and specific — and not like the dense circularity of Gagnon, or the flippant dismissal of Radner.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

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Teachers to Ones Liking

Perhaps the strangest response to the recent Roman Catholic offer of transition and incorporation for disaffected Anglicans is this from the group Reform. They alert us at the head of their site that they very rarely issue press releases, so this is a rarity. Perhaps a second draft might have been advised, to avoid the apparent disconnect between the two final paragraphs (emphasis mine):

“If priests really are out of sympathy with the C of E’s doctrine (as opposed to the battles we are having over women’s ministry and sexuality), then perhaps it is better they make a clean break and go to Rome. However, when they do, they will have to accommodate themselves to Rome’s top-down approach to church life, whereas the C of E has always stressed the importance of decision making at the level of the local church.”
“It is illusory to pretend that this development is an outcome of ecumenical dialogue. It illustrates the difficulties the C of E faces and the need for stronger leadership, rather than the ‘softly softly’ approach so far taken to those holding liberal views who are splitting the church.”

So, let me get this straight, or at least decently and in order: Top-down is that unpleasant Romish thing, and local discernment the English, but the problem with the C of E is that very lack of a top-down imposition of control from the leadership. Which leads me to suspect that if Rome actually enforced all that the Reform folk agreed with, they too would fly to her bosom.

Which is just another example of "I like strong leaders and tough enforcement when I agree with it" — the tautology of tyranny and the unassailable rule of private conscience writ large.

No thanks. I'll stick with subsidiarity, even when it's upside-down.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Multivalent imagery

When marriage is analogized to the relationship between Christ and the church (or God and Israel) — God or Christ figured as the bridegroom and Israel or the church as the bride — it generally follows a monogamous model.

However, when the marriage is cast to reflect the relationship of the individual believer with God, it must perforce tend towards polygamy. Thus, in Jeremiah 31:32, God can lament that though he was "a husband to them," the people, individually and not just as a people have been unfaithful.

I was reflecting on this the other day in relation to the contrast between those of a more "catholic" ecclesiology versus those of a more "evangelical." (Pardon the imprecision of these terms.) The former sees salvation as taking place within the ark of the church, to such an extent that the old saying, "extra ecclesiam nulla salus" (there is no salvation outside the church) becomes a dominant theme. One is saved by becoming part of the corporate "bride" — and there is only one bride for the one Lord. The latter tends to see salvation as a more personal affair; in some cases rather radically so, the church perhaps taking the office of a kind of matchmaker, rather than the bride herself.

This might also relate to the general frangibility of protestantism.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Wright Still At It

Bishop Wright of Durham is still fulminating against America while protecting Merrie Olde England to a fault. (I'm inclined to think that Fulcrum, with the implication of leverage, has still got the wrong end of the stick.) Wright still talks about an America I do not recognize — and an Episcopal Church that is the fabrication of the militant minority, who trot out the same tired and weary druids, wiccans, muslims and Spongs with dreary regularity, to prove the collapse of all good order in North America.

Wright describes

the almost incredible situations that people face for the sole crime of continuing to preach and teach the orthodox faith in Jesus Christ as the true and only Saviour, the final revelation of the one true God, and the standards of behaviour which Christians around the world have taught, and tried to live up to, for 2000 years...

and that he continues to stand by those who have "suffered much" for their stand in TEC. Suffered? Much? For being opposed to Gene Robinson? For not approving of same-sex marriage? For opposing the ordination of women? For criticizing the PB for saying things about Jesus that can be found in Vatican documents? Last time I looked, no bishop has been caused to suffer for not having consented to Gene's election; nor has TEC in fact approved of same-sex blessings, and any number of bishops have said there would be no such things done in their dioceses, and have suffered nothing for it.

Perhaps Wright is, as some suggest, simply spouting this nonsense in order to win back some of the Evangelical friends he has alienated. Others have suggested he is positioning himself to be next Archbishop of Canterbury. All I know is that his writing is verging on slanderous, and he is enough of a New Testament scholar to know that slander is among the worst of faults in the church.

Tobias Haller BSG

Atonement

A certain strand of Evangelicals lay claim to a particular doctrine of the Atonement as if it were the only explanation for the phenomenon of salvation. At our last General Convention this emerged in a strangely-worded resolution that was rejected — not because the Episcopal Church rejects the doctrine of the Atonement, but on the contrary, because we are, as a church, loath to pin its undeniable efficacy to one particular theological explanation.

My thinking on this endlessly rich subject has some sympathy with a number of the various propositions — including the substitutionary one dear to Evangelicals. I am also in sympathy with them in placing the crux (pun intended) of the act of salvation at the cross — although I take the wider view that this is the climax and not the entire drama.

For anyone interested in a reflection that represents my thinking, not as a theological tract, but in a more discursive form, I commend the sermon I preached yesterday at my parish, The King and His Cross. As I say, it is a sermon, not a treatise. But I hope that in it I make my general position clear: that I see the Atonement as effecting a real change in the universe through the exercise of a faculty that exists in the universe only by the grace of God, and which, in itself, reflects and literally embodies the nature of God.

Tobias Haller BSG

SPREAD-ing Division

Yet another organization has appeared on the scene: The Society for the Propagation of Reformed Evangelical Anglican Doctrine, or S.P.R.E.A.D., led by Bishop Rodgers of ... well, I can't keep straight in my mind what he's bishop of. Anyway, this document appears to call for the division of Anglicanism along familiar lines.

Personally, I've never gotten used to these lower-fat spreads. This one sounds too much like "I Can't Believe It's Not the Gospel!" It looks like the Gospel, and a little bit of it even sounds like the Gospel; but it leaves a sour aftertaste; and in spite of the assurances, I don't think it is really all that good for the heart.