September 30, 2007

Duncan: History Lesson

In the extended online interviews for “Religion and Ethics Newsweekly” this week, Bishop Duncan of The Common Cause Partners states:

The last time that Episcopal dioceses separated from the Episcopal Church was in the American Civil War. Nine dioceses actually separated for a period of years. When the war was over the Episcopal Church came back together. There was an important social issue, I mean the whole issue of slavery divided the nation. The North and the South were divided. When the issue was settled the church came back together. Where we are right now is seeing the church moving in two distinctly different directions on issues of Christian morality quite different than the slavery issue.

Bishop Duncan’s account is telling both for what he omits and what he includes. First of all, from The Episcopal Church’s perspective, those southern dioceses were not “separated” — their bishops were “absent” but the roll was still called down yonder wherever the General Convention met.

More importantly, the rationale given for the separation by the separationists was the importance of defending the integrity of the national church. Since the Confederacy was a new nation, it was necessary for a new national church to be constituted for this new nation — just exactly as it had been “necessary” for the The Episcopal Church to separate from the Church of England at the creation of the United States, as the preface to our first BCP notes. Civil War veteran chaplain, and historian of The Episcopal Church, Archdeacon Charles C. Tiffany recorded the actions of the first Confederate Conclave:

It was unanimously resolved that the secession of the Southern States from the United States, and the formation of the government of the Confederate States, rendered necessary an independent organization of the dioceses within the seceded States. (496*)

So the reason for the “division” in the church was not disagreement over slavery, but the concept of the integrity of a national church — the very thing Duncan’s movement contradicts. To our shame, slavery was not the issue that “divided” the church — the church had, on the contrary, refused to take a national position on slavery in the interests of keeping the peace. As Tiffany put it,

The Episcopal Church as an organization had, from the beginning, determined to keep aloof from party politics, and, more fully that other ecclesiastical bodies, had done so. Her membership was very varied among the influential classes of society. Many of the distinguished statesmen of all parties were of her communion. They acted in their several political spheres as citizens and as churchmen, neither gave nor withheld their countenance in political action. The triennial meetings of the General Convention had made the clergy and laity of the North and the South familiar and friendly with one another. The sectional institution of slavery, which occasioned the secession movement, had not been made the subject of general ecclesiastical legislation. It was left to the regulation of the dioceses in which it existed. (494)

Thus, by allowing for local option on the question of slavery, The Episcopal Church was enabled to remain united, until the matter boiled over in the secular arena.

Finally, it is fascinating to me to see that Bishop Duncan appears to think that our present divisions over sexuality are of quite a different moral significance — and obviously far more important — than the question of slavery. It seems to me that this sad past chapter of our national history offers little to support his present pressure for division.

Tobias Haller BSG


*The citations from Charles C. Tiffany come from his History of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America, 1895.

September 28, 2007

Where We Are

As I noted in a comment to the previous post, my bishop held a Town Hall meeting yesterday for clergy of the diocese. He and our suffragan bishop both spoke, as well as the vicar bishop and an old friend who although he retired as a diocesan some years ago has probably held more positions since his “retirement” than most bishops do in their entire ministry.

Two of the clergy present spoke very forthrightly about the extent to which the House of Bishops’ statement was a source of considerable pain to gay and lesbian members of their congregations. The bishop seemed at first to be slightly nonplused by this response, but then said some very profound things about the state of our church. I’ve been reflecting on them since.

[Update 10/1/07: a few people, including one reasserter blogger, have misunderstood what follows to be a summary of what the bishops said. This is not the case. The following comments are my personal reflections on the situation, in part in reaction to some of the things the bishops at the Town Hall meeting said.]

In keeping with an effort towards descriptive rather than prescriptive analysis, this is a sobering exercise in considering the state of The Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion. What follows may be hard to hear, but I think these things need to be said. I will frame them simply as bullet points; I welcome commenters who disagree with my assessments to say so — but I am trying to be clearly, if not brutally, honest.

  • It is very easy, in a liberal parish in a liberal diocese to come to think that The Episcopal Church as a whole is much more liberal than it really is. This applies to the Anglican Communion as well.
  • The House of Bishops as a whole — even with the “Network” bishops missing — is not as liberal as its most liberal members. When they gather, something between the Hive Mind and the Stockholm Effect takes place. The whole is often less than the sum of its parts.
  • The idea that gay and lesbian persons are full and equal members of the church is more of a hope than a reality. The ground has shifted considerably from 1979 (when General Convention resolution A053 recommended that bishops and standing committees not allow the ordination of “practicing homosexuals” to any order of ministry) to 2006 (when B033 recommended withholding consent only for the episcopate, for candidates whose manner of life might challenge the wider church) to this week in 2007 when the House of Bishops clarified that yes, this does include partnered gay and lesbian persons.
  • That gay and lesbian persons continue to put up with the church may also be a sign of the Stockholm Effect, or of their great faith. I prefer to think it is the latter.
  • While no one has a right to be ordained, or a right to get married (the hierarchy has veto powers on both matters) still these may have come to be seen as reasonable expectations, to some extent encouraged by a gradual movement towards greater toleration in the desuetude of 1979's A053, and the increasing practice of pastoral provision for same sex blessings in a significant minority of dioceses.
  • This impression was also encouraged by a crucial act in 2003. The consent to the election of Gene Robinson was a “false dawn” — and was not the celebration of gay and lesbian equality it was perceived to be. The consent had more to do with Gene’s superb personal qualities and track-record as an excellent priest than with his sexuality and his partnership. The consent was given in spite of, not in affirmation of, his private life. The consent to his election thus made it appear both to us and to the world that we were moving faster than we actually were.

So, where are we then, speaking practically, and what can be done to encourage gay and lesbian persons that they have not been abandoned? A number of our bishops have already issued letters or commentary on the House of Bishops’ meeting, affirming their personal commitment in their own dioceses to continuing the struggle. That, I think, is the best that can be said at this point.

As I suggested in an earlier post, it is high time to proclaim that Lambeth 1998 1.10 does not represent the consensus of the Anglican Communion — and remind people that fully a third of the bishops present voted against the clause on the compatibility of same-sex relationships with Scripture: so that even if this is a majority view, it cannot by any reasonable definition of the term be called a “consensus.”

Meanwhile, the struggle continues — perhaps made a bit easier by the behavior of the radical right in their essential withdrawal from the process and choice literally to walk apart, both at the national and communion level. I take some hope in this — but it is a hope, not a thing achieved. What I say here may not be of great comfort to those who had come to believe that The Episcopal Church was more welcoming as a whole than it actually is. There are many parishes even in the most liberal dioceses where a gay or lesbian person cannot be honest about who they are. There are many dioceses in which clergy with partners continue to function, faithfully serving their parishes, from the closet. God willing, this will change in my life time. But even if it doesn’t, I know that the theologies of heterosexism are doomed, and that the day will come when the hope to which the bishops referred is realized.

For the present, a luta continua.

Tobias Haller BSG



September 26, 2007

Episcopoliticians At Work

I am hardly the first to notice the contradiction between the restrictive portions of the recent House of Bishops’ statement and the closing point: “We proclaim the Gospel that in Christ all God’s children, including gay and lesbian persons, are full and equal participants in the life of Christ’s Church.” Surely, it would be more consistent with the rest of the document if the phrase “full and equal” were struck.

While I appreciate this closing acknowledgment of the dignity of gay and lesbian people (presumably because they are a part of the larger class of people described in the Baptismal Covenant, which is to say, human beings), and the call for justice (one hopes, not justice as understood in Nigeria or under Islamic law), and deploring violence (did anyone think the bishops favored violence?), and even the call for certain unenumerated civil rights — still, this closing does not seem to sit very consistently with the commitments made earlier in the document. This inconsistency reminds me of that which plagued the mind of Thomas Jefferson, the slaveholder who was able to proclaim that all men have an unalienable right to liberty, if not with a straight face, at least in neat handwriting.

At the same time, I acknowledge that worse things could happen to one than not being confirmed as a bishop, or not being allowed to marry as one chooses. In particular, I would like to suggest that everyone remove from their store of similes references to crucifixion unless related to someone actually being nailed to a tree. I think, in the current context, Matthew Shepard qualifies; and gay and lesbian persons in much of the rest of the world, particularly under the tender mercies of some Christian and Islamic leaders. But for most of us in the West, the application of this kind of hyperbole is becoming tiresome.

As is the language of “a crucified place,” a phrase that grates on my senses (even if it were literally describing Golgotha) almost as much as “the Christ event” and “a kairos moment.” Very few of our bishops have come within spitting distance of anything remotely approaching “a crucified place” except perhaps on a tour of the Holy Land.

However, these observations aside, I feel that our bishops have made an astute and politic decision. They have given the Archbishop of Canterbury everything he needs to say, “They really are trying — and I don’t mean trying my patience.” This will also give the Global South’s most rightward-leaning sector all they need to proclaim that their Demands had not been met, and that they and their episcopi vagantes will soon be forming a new and improved, and purified, Anglican Communion.

And then, perhaps, the rest of us can get back to the work of the church.

Tobias Haller BSG


Discussion on Conflict

I've posted an initial offering over at the Seminar on Conflict Ecclesiology, a new blog begun by Marshall Montgomery. We begin in examining some basis theses. Give a visit. —Tobias

A Proposed Resolution for Lambeth 2008

Resolved, That given the debate, division and dissent to which it has given rise, Resolution 1.10 of the 1998 Lambeth Conference no longer represents the consensus of the Anglican Communion.

—Tobias Haller BSG

September 23, 2007

Out of Egypt

some thoughts on patience and perception

I've been doing a lot of listening lately, and taking the time to read the commentaries, from the moderate and thoughtful to the aggressively pugnacious. I've also read through the address by +Anis of Jerusalem and the Middle East, delivered to our House of Bishops. I have a few observations to make.

  • Patience is best called for by those who are themselves patient. It is a behavior better modeled than exhorted.
  • One is at least as much responsible for ones own perceptions, and what one does with them, as the stimulus that gave rise to them. If the stimulus is an indirect or third-hand report, examination of evidence is a helpful step in forming an opinion.
  • People should listen to the perceptions of others, but not necessarily believe them to be objective, unless the others have shown themselves to be objective in other ways, or can offer independent objective evidence for their conclusions.
  • However, one can learn even from ill-informed criticism. The Episcopal Church has been given ample opportunity to do so.
  • Thus, caricature serves a function less refined than portraiture, but of some service in helping one to be aware of the features to which others may give undue prominence.

Tobias Haller

September 21, 2007

3. True Union (1)

In the previous post, Pro Creation, I offered evidence from the realms of nature and reason, Scripture, and the church’s tradition, in support of the proposition that procreation is neither essential nor intrinsic to human sexuality or marriage. As is obvious from some of the comments, not all are persuaded by the evidence I have presented; however, I know that some will not be persuaded regardless of how authoritative the evidence may be. One interlocutor believes that a sterile couple are somehow still capable of an “intrinsically procreative act,” even though they are incapable of procreation. Another continues to reassert that the primary purpose of marriage is the production and protection of children, in spite of the considerable evidence to the contrary. I am perfectly happy to continue discussing these matters, but I feel to some extent we have entered the Monty Python sketch concerned with the distinction between argument and contradiction. Some kind of evidence to the contrary, or specific faults with the evidence thus far produced, would enhance what is otherwise reassertion or contradiction.

On the basis of the evidence I have adduced, therefore, I hold that it is clear that procreation as a “good” is both naturally and intentionally separable from sexual activity and from marriage. Neither church nor state forbid marriage or criminalize sexual congress between a man and a woman even when one or both are intrinsically incapable of procreation. (The lack of capacity to procreate is not always due to a “defect” since human beings “by design” enjoy periods of natural and intrinsic infertility, as well as reaching a time in life when fertility ceases.) So the fundamental and intrinsic inability to achieve procreation cannot be offered as a rationale against same-sexuality or same-sex unions.

And so I turn to a second major “good” or “cause” for marriage: union. I will first examine the nature of union in its broadest sense (as summarized in the exhortation at the beginning of the Episcopal Church’s marriage liturgy), including its moral status; and in succeeding posts examine whether or not this “good” can be achieved by a same-sex couple.

The Locus of Union

The union of husband and wife in heart, body, and mind is intended by God for their mutual joy; for the help and comfort given one another in prosperity and adversity...

The church gives this “good” of marriage first place in its revised liturgy (which as I note in the previous article is the first American BCP liturgy to mention the “goods” at all). It clarifies that the union is not merely “fleshly” or “bodily” but deeply personal, involving the heart and mind as well as body — it is the union of persons, not merely of body parts. Secondly, this unity is ordered primarily to mutual joy (which includes but is not limited to the pleasure of sexual intercourse), and perhaps more importantly to the human values of help and comfort. Thus the good of union broadens out from the merely physical to embrace the emotional, mental, and social aspects of human life.

One Flesh

First, however, it is important to address the significance of the fleshly unity. “One flesh” is a biblical concept, but it occurs only in the context of the second creation account — all other references to this phenomenon are citations of this passage, whether in the Gospels or the Pauline Epistles. These citations will be helpful in unpacking the meaning this phrase should have for us, in that it allows us to look at how others — including our Lord himself — understood it, and how they applied it to various circumstances.

As I noted in the previous chapter, Jesus’ midrash (appearing in Matthew and Mark) omits any reference to procreation: he jumps from the “male and female” of Genesis 1 to the “one flesh” of Genesis 2, and then adds his own conclusion: what God has joined together is not to be divided. This form of midrash is a classic rabbinic technique, finding an answer to a particular dilemma (“Is it permissible for a man to divorce his wife?”) by taking two scriptural passages and deriving an original conclusion from them. (This conclusion is all the more striking in that it overturns the plain sense of Mosaic law.) Clearly, then, if one is to draw any conclusion from Jesus’ understanding of “one flesh,” it lies in Jesus’ emphasis on the unity of the couple, quite apart from procreation (or the absence of procreation due to infertility, which as I noted in the previous article was a specific grounds for divorce under rabbinic law). It should be noted as well that Jesus also mentions the change in domicile, which further locates the unity of the couple in a new household, a new social structure. The union is thus not merely physical, but social.

The two Pauline references to this text are a bit more problematical. In these related passages (Eph 5:25-33 and 1 Cor 6:13-18) Paul is caught up in rhetorical flourishes that operate on several levels at once, so it will be helpful to tease apart the various strands in his thinking.

The “Mystery” of Ephesians

The Ephesians reference must be seen in its context as part of the whole epistle, where the primary theme is the “mystery of Christ” which Paul describes as the union “of all things in him.” (1:9-10) He develops this imagery of the union of all things in a succession of images beginning with Christ as head of his “body,” the church (1:22-23). In chapter 2 he describes the way in which divisions based on national or ethnic identity, of culture and clan, are abolished by the flesh and blood of Christ, in a vivid image from the Second Temple — its dividing wall separating Gentile from Jew being removed — and the creation of a single new humanity out of two, in “one body through the cross.” (2:14-16) Perhaps inspired by his own brief reference to the Temple, Paul expands on that image, in which Christ shifts to become the cornerstone of a Temple whose building stones are the members of the church, indwelt by the Spirit (2:20-22).

Paul returns to revealing “the mystery” in chapter 3, when he again defines it as the Gentiles becoming “fellow heirs, members of the same body... through the Gospel.” (3:6) Chapter 4 turns to the natural consequences of being “one body” — and urges the members of that body to live in peace and harmony in various ways, making use of the variety of spiritual gifts with which the body is provided to build up that very body, towards the goal of more perfect unity in Christ. (4:11-16) He contrasts this unity with the futile conflicts of the Gentiles, and offers counsel for a harmonious life. (4:17-5:20)

As part of this counsel, reflecting on the orderly hierarchies of human society, he brings up three areas of human relationship: marital (5:21-33), familial (6:1-4) and social (i.e., slavery, 6:5-9). It is in the first of these three parallel human situations that Paul introduces the language of Genesis 2. He does so by analogizing his “mystery” (human unity in and with Christ) with the union of a man and a woman in marriage. The analogy is, as it seems Paul recognizes, not quite parallel — which may explain his eventual explanation, “But I speak of Christ and of the church” — that is, he returns to his main theme of the “mystery” of union in Christ, though he continues to advise that men and women should be mutually loving. (5:32-33) This passage is notoriously badly translated in the RSV/NRSV tradition. Clearly Paul intends to correct any misapprehension that hisreference to the “great mystery” (which he has expounded a number of times earlier in the letter as referring to ecclesiastical unity under the headship of Christ) might be misunderstood as a reference to marriage. Indeed, many have so misunderstood Paul’s intent, in spite of his effort to clarify, and the context of the epistle as a whole.

In any case, the main thing we can carry away from this passage for our present purpose is that Paul uses the language of “one flesh” primarily to describe union, a union as close as that between a man and his own body: “He who loves his wife loves himself.” (5:28) He applies this personal union to the ecclesiastical unity of the people of God in Christ.

The ambivalent nature of “one flesh”

When we turn to Paul’s other reference to this text we are on similar ground, at least as far as his concern with unity in the church as the body of Christ. But in 1 Corinthians, Paul does not see “one flesh” as an ideal, but as something to be avoided, at least when expanded in a certain direction: “Do you not know that whoever is united to a prostitute becomes one body with her? For it is said, ‘The two shall be one flesh.’” (6:16) His concern is with “fornication” (porneia) — which whatever the alleged breadth of meaning elsewhere, here clearly refers to prostitution. (The range of meaning alleged for porneia will be a topic for another time.)

In any case, it is clear from this passage that Paul understands “one flesh” to be a result of sexual congress, not of marriage. It is in this case precisely “fleshly” (a relationship with a prostitute lacking all that true human union should entail, precisely because it is transactional rather than relational) and in this context has no place in the spiritual life of the church. (Here Paul is consistent with his usual use of “flesh” in a negative sense, as opposed to the Spirit.) It is also remotely possible that Paul is alluding to another common meaning for porneia — as a metaphor for idolatry; however, it appears the primary concern here is with actual, not metaphorical, harlotry.

The lesson we can take from this is that union of flesh is, from this Pauline perspective, morally neutral. It is good between a married couple, but not between a prostitute and her client. It is, thus, the context of the relationship (the fullness of unity of body, mind and heart in mutual joy and companionship) that determines the moral status of the act which engenders the “one flesh,” not the merely physical act itself.

The Nature of Union

As we have seen, the fleshly union was understood to be connected with sexual congress. But as we have also seen, there is much more to it if this union is to be seen as a moral good: which is precisely where the other aspects of heart and mind enter in. The whole person — or rather, two whole persons — are united in a variety of ways.

When we turn to the text in its original setting, we see that these other elements are present. As noted in the previous article, the creation account in Genesis 1 references procreation; the account in Genesis 2 makes no mention of it until after the fall. Rather, the emphasis there is upon the union of the man and the woman prior to their having intercourse, though that is clearly meant to be an eventual part of the exercise. This union finds its beginning in the flesh and bones themselves (though it doesn’t end there).

This bodily reality is significant: the fact that the woman is not made from the “same” substance as the man (that is, from the same soil, as were the animals whom the man rejected as unsuitable). Rather the woman is made from the man’s own substance; she is one “like himself.” (Tobit 8:6) This imagery was picked up bythePatristic church in coming to an understanding of the Incarnation, seen as a reversal of this Edenic derivation of woman: just as woman was taken from man, Christ (the new Adam) was taken from the substance of the Virgin Mary. (Definition of Chalcedon; there is a hint of this thinking in 1 Cor 11:12, later expanded upon by the early church.) We will return to these themes in a later section.

The shift of focus away from merely bodily union towards the other aspects is evident in the Genesis passage itself. There is a reference to leaving the paternal home to be bound to the spouse, which in itself points beyond the merely fleshly to the social context. There are also, in Adam’s effusive welcome, testimony to the emotional joy to be found in his having finally found one like himself with whom to join. This likeness — which appears to be a primary emphasis of the passage — is significant in addressing one of the arguments often raised against the recognition of same-sex unions, which I will take up in a succeeding post.

Tobias Haller BSG


The discussion continues with True Union (2).

Further Update: This post and those that follow, expanded and supplemented with much additional material, form part of Reasonable and Holy, published by Seabury Books and available on order from Church Publishing Incorporated.

September 10, 2007

2. Pro-Creation

This post is a continuation of a discussion begun with Where the Division Lies. As this is part of an ongoing discussion, I would like to ask commenters to attempt to cleave to the main point of each post and allow the argument to unfold. A number of comments on the first post actually anticipated issues to be addressed in this one; as well as bringing up important questions that I hope to address subsequently.

In this post I will respond to the assertion that the purpose of sexuality is procreation. This assertion is well-summarized by a leading member of the reasserter community, in a comment on the earlier post:

The reasserting position is that sex is specifically given for the purpose of furthering the ends of marriage: procreative, uniative, and reflective. One of those ends cannot be separated in such a way as to stand exclusive of the others and form a proper basis for the introduction of sex outside of the other three. All three are essential to marriage. And sex is specifically given as a function of them.

I intend to demonstrate that not only is procreation not essential to marriage, but that its relationship to sexuality is not absolute; that it can be (and is) separated from other ends, which in themselves can and do form a proper basis for a sexual relationship within marriage.

Ways and means and blessings

Before entering into the specifics, I want to address the language of “purpose” and “function” or “ends.” In general, although this language has a place in the tradition, it seems to me to reflect an overly utilitarian ethic focused on results. I would prefer to follow another aspect of the Christian tradition that refers to the “goods” of marriage. In a virtue ethic, sexuality is not simply a function, or the use of a person (or two persons’ use of each other) towards some purposed end or goal, but an act growing out of the love between persons that is open to the good that may be imparted. Self-giving love, rather than self-asserting need, provides the basis for the action which grows out of the love, and which is a blessing in itself apart from any result.

In addition, “purpose” in this context implies an a priori assumption, a social or theological one at that. There is a difference even between a purpose and a function. Purpose sees sexuality not merely for what it does and how it does it, but as a naturally or divinely intended “plan for humanity” — depending upon one’s worldview of a secular personified Nature or theological divine intent. It is important, therefore, to be aware of this subtext in the secular and sacred tradition before proceeding. (I am not challenging the notion that sexuality has a purpose in the natural world or in God’s plan; I merely flag that this is a second order question, which I will address at the proper point in the discussion.)

Defining the goods

Avoiding both “purpose” and “function” at the outset, let me say that most people (including those outside the faith) would agree that human sexuality appears to have two principle goods, procreation and the union. (The “reflective” good, in which marriage serves as an image for the relationship between Christ and the Church, or God and Israel, is solely theological. I will address union and reflection in subsequent posts; as well as a “cause” or end of marriage that has dropped both from this reasserter’s list and from the preface to the Episcopal marriage liturgy: marriage as a remedy for fornication, for those who lack the gift of celibacy.)

In regarding procreation and union, the church has (until fairly recent times) traditionally emphasized the former over the latter, but it appears that such an emphasis is not well supported by Scripture, reason, or even other elements of the tradition. In this and succeeding posts I hope to sketch out a number of points concerning the various goods of sexuality, and consequently, of marriage.

In the process I will demonstrate that procreation is neither essential to marriage, nor the principle good of human sexuality. I use the word human intentionally, in order to highlight the fact that sex and sexuality are not unique to human beings. We share our being members of a species predominantly male or female, and our capacity to reproduce sexually, with most animals and many plants. It has been observed in the past that expending theological energy on the mere existence of the sexes and the capacity to reproduce — which is part of our animal nature — shifts the focus away from what makes us truly human, as well as serving as locus for the image of God in human form: our capacity to love and to reason.

The witness of nature

No one would claim that sex has nothing to do with procreation; rather it is obvious that the existence of male and female in many species of animals and plants is a part of the natural process by which life is perpetuated. It is not, of course, the only means of such propagation, and many forms of life, even some vertebrates, reproduce without making use of sexual differentiation or sexual intercourse.

However, when it comes to human beings, it is trivial to observe that the existence of male and female, and their exercise of the capacity for sexual intercourse, is intimately connected with procreation. The natural law tradition takes this as given; but that is, in part, why this tradition is of little use in the present discussion, as it begs the question: it assumes as a premise the very matter under discussion; that is: that procreation is the primary purpose for or good of sex.

The difficulties with ends-based natural law arguments in this regard, which are advanced against birth control as much as against same-sexuality, in particular those that focus narrowly on the mechanics of sexual intercourse, are well summarized by The Westminster Dictionary of Christian Ethics.

It is one thing to say that the natural function of the eye is to see. But even bodily organs can and do serve several functions. And if one asks of the body as a whole what its function is, the answer is much less clear. Even less clear is the answer to questions such as “What is the function of a human life?” or “What is the function of sexuality in a human life?” The way one might try to answer these questions seems quite unlike the way one might try to answer questions about the function(s) of the endocrine glands or the heart in the human body. The notion of “function” at this point becomes much more a matter of moral assessment than a scientific inquiry. (“Natural Law,” 413)

Given that caveat, from an objective standpoint the following observations are telling, even in light of a functional or ends-based viewpoint:

  • Procreation is not simultaneous with intercourse, which in humans is not the planting of a seed (as the pre-modern world imagined it) but the placement of millions of sperm in a place where they are capable of eventually reaching a single ovum, at which point one of them may fertilize it
  • Intercourse does not always lead to procreation. Women, unlike the females of most mammals, do not have an estrus cycle, which in many other species limits sexual behavior to times of fertility; thus there is a completely natural separation between capacity to have sexual relations and the capacity to procreate
  • Procreation can take place entirely apart from intercourse (through artificial insemination and in vitro fertilization); and, perhaps needless to say, apart from marriage
  • Intercourse can take place when procreation is impossible or avoided: in addition to the lack of estrus, human beings can engage in intercourse when some other cause (intended or incidental) prevents conception
  • From a sociological perspective, in looking at the question of “the function of sexuality in a human life” is is clear that sexuality has major social implications apart from procreation; and has taken many forms in many cultures

At the same time, it is fair to notice the fact (which reasserters occasionally raise in such discussions) that every human being who ever lived is the result of sexual congress between a man and a woman. This, however, in addition to overlooking conception via artificial means or in vitro, neglects an exception significant to the religious question; which brings me to the witness of Scripture.

The witness of Scripture

The most important conception in human history, that of Jesus Christ himself, took place apart from sexual intercourse between a man and a woman. This is, naturally, an article of faith and revelation, not reason. However, we are presented with this theological fact and reason can seek to understand what God may have intended by it. That God should choose this means of entering upon the human scene should give pause to those who wish to make more out of heterosexuality in the scheme of salvation than is actually evidenced in Scripture. As I will demonstrate below, this choice on God’s part is best seen as a reflection of the teaching of Jesus on the new Creation, which is not simply a recapitulation of the old, but the beginning of something truly new.

Back to the beginning

But let us for a moment return to that beginning, to the Book of Genesis, which is naturally often cited in discussions of human sexuality. It is important firstly to note the obvious fact that Genesis contains two creation accounts, and they are not harmonious in numerous details. This has not prevented people merging the two accounts in various ways. Jesus himself performed such a midrash, though with a significant omission.

However, it appears best to treat the two accounts with some care in distinguishing the concerns each expresses. It is immediately apparent that Genesis 1 refers to procreation (both animal and human), while Genesis 2 focuses on the good of companionship and unity, which I will address at greater length in a succeeding post. This alone indicates to some extent the way in which these two goods can be discussed apart from each other.

Many reasserters seem to think that Genesis offers the best argument against same-sex relationships, and regularly return to it in discussions of the subject. However, the fact that Genesis presents us with the creation of male and female as ordered towards procreation does not in itself automatically indicate or even imply a prohibition on same-sex relationships, any more than the pre-scientific discussion of the origin of the world, or the structure of the cosmos, need automatically rule out the learnings of physics or cosmology.

Moreover, the divine establishment of X does not in itself imply a negative assessment of Y, in particular if X and Y can be shown both to belong to a larger category, and have more in common than in contrast. Part of our problem in the present discussions is our tendency to see heterosexuality and homosexuality as somehow opposed to each other, or mutually exclusive, rather than as (admittedly differing) expressions of one overriding reality — the human capacity to love.

Beginnings and ends

In addition, Genesis 1 is a creation account, an account intended to explain the origin of certain things. As such, it is quite natural that — as with many other creation stories the world over — it should recount the creation of the sexes. Procreation — a function of the sexes both in animals and in humans (as Genesis 1 states explicitly) — is intended to fill the world with living things. But this is, after all, the first word on sexuality, not the last. This is the genesis of the world, not its intended end. The scriptural testimony may begin in a Garden, but it ends in a City, where the only marriage is that of the Lamb and his Bride, the Holy City itself. The goal and eternal plan of God is not mere restoration or recapitulation, but redemption and transfiguration.

This leads to an issue sometimes raised by reasserters, who envision salvation in terms of a return to or restoration of the prelapsarian world. However, although Genesis 1 includes a commandment to procreation, Scripture does not indicate this being acted upon until after the fall, in Genesis 4. Procreation, in the second creation account, is postlapsarian.

The Christian vision thus portrays the life of the resurrection as prelapsarian only in this sense, as pre-sexual, a world in which there is no more “male and female” — by which Paul (Gal 3:28) is speaking less of an eschatological disappearance of gender, than of an end to the marriage relationship based on sexual distinction. As with the other distinctions (ethnic and social), Paul points to the restoration of equality and mutuality rather than of domination and exclusion.

This harmonizes well with Jesus’ description of the resurrection life as prelapsarian only in this narrow sense: a world in which “they do not marry nor are given in marriage, for they cannot die any more” (Luke 20:35-36); that is, there is no more need for “male and female” to “be fruitful and multiply” and “fill the earth and subdue it.” For the old earth will have passed away, and all will be new. Procreation will be no more — but love will endure for ever.

A change in the law

It is notable that Jesus’ midrash of Genesis 1 and 2 in response to challenges on divorce (Matt 19:4-5; Mk 10:6-9) omits the reference to procreation — he passes directly from “God made them male and female” to “For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.” Omitting any reference to procreation, his emphasis is on the unitive aspect, and its permanence through the grace of fidelity. (Those who attempt to pitch Jesus’ teaching here as a condemnation of same-sex relationships, rather than as Jesus intended it in response to the question on divorce, are doing justice neither to their position nor to Scripture.) I will return to this passage in my discussion of the unitive good of marriage — the one which Jesus emphasized.

However, Jesus’ rejection of the divorce statute of the Mosaic Law (given by Moses but attributed to God in the Torah) brings me to another significant change in attitude towards procreation in the teaching of Christ.

The Rabbis regarded the commandment to be fruitful and multiply as applying to all people; as the first commandment given to humanity. Thus celibacy was held in low esteem or even contempt in mainstream Rabbinic Judaism, even to the extent of being considered a serious moral failing.

No man may abstain from keeping the law Be fruitful and multiply, unless he already has children: according to the School of Shammai, two sons; according to the School of Hillel, a son and a daughter, for it is written, Male and female created he them. (Mishnah Yebamoth 6.6)

So important was the commandment to be fruitful and multiply that the biblical law mandated a special form of marriage which would otherwise have constituted incest by affinity (Deut 25:5-6) in order to provide for continuation of a family line ended by death before fulfillment of the divine command. For the same reason, biblical law also allowed for polygamy, and the historical accounts attest to its employment to that end. One of these incidents, however, also shows the importance of the unitive aspect of sexuality, apart from procreation: as Elkanah comforted his barren wife Hannah with the words, “Am I not more to you than ten sons?” (1 Sam 1:8) The fact that the story of Hannah was later typologically parsed by Saint Luke in reference to Mary and the birth of Christ casts even greater significance on this episode from early Jewish history.

However, more importantly, and perhaps related to the contrary teaching of Jesus, so important was the duty to procreate that the Rabbis enjoined divorce should a man find his wife to be infertile after ten years of marriage. (M Yebamoth 6.6) In a prescientific world, of course, failure to bear a child was most often seen as the woman’s fault, as women were held to be “fertile soil” for the growth of the male “seed.” Even given that, the Mishnah allows a woman so divorced an additional 10 years with another husband just in case the fault lies with the man.

Jesus overturns this traditional understanding and emphasis upon procreation; and this may relate to and reflect the larger Divine intent in his own Incarnation apart from sexual intercourse. Whatever the source of his teaching, beginning with God’s act in the Incarnation, and contrary to the main stream of Rabbinic thought and Jewish culture, Jesus approves and commends celibacy (Matt 19:12); as does Saint Paul (1 Cor 7:7-8).

Celibacy is, of course, a radical option, as both Jesus and Paul recognize — it is a charismatic gift of which not all are capable, but it is also an eschatological sign, a symbol for the new world in which there is no marriage.

This brings me, incidentally, to another argument often advanced against same-sexuality: that if everyone “practiced” it it would be the end of humanity. I raise this argument here because it is also true that if everyone practiced celibacy that would also be the end of humanity — though no one apart from an Orthodox Rabbi would thereby suggest celibacy was morally wrong. The distinctly “unorthodox” Saint Paul, in his only extended discussion of marriage cited above, actually did suggest that he wished everyone were celibate as he was — though this may be regarded as a rhetorical flourish rather than as an actual intention, since he goes on to tolerate marriage in the meanwhile, even as he advises against it. (1 Cor 7:28-31)

The witness of tradition

Finally, I turn to the testimony of the church’s tradition. Although relatively recent in the body of tradition, it is helpful to start with the preface to the marriage liturgy in our Book of Common Prayer. This exhortation states the issue rather clearly, both in demoting procreation to third place among the “causes” for which marriage was instituted (as articulated in the 1662 Prayer Book’s preface), and in adding the important proviso “when it is God’s will” in recognition of the fact that not all marriages will result in procreation.

It also note once again the disappearance of the 1662 Prayer Book’s second “cause” — missing both from the comment by the reasserter and from the 1979 Book of Common Prayer: marriage as a remedy for sin and the avoidance of fornication, that those who “have not the gift of continency might marry, and keep themselves undefiled.” As this is one of the biblical ends of marriage (as elucidated by Saint Paul in 1 Cor 7:8-9) its omission is surprising. I will address this additional “cause” in a subsequent post.

It is perhaps also interesting to note that reference to these causes or ends or goods of marriage were entirely omitted from the marriage liturgy of the Books of Common Prayer from1789 up through 1928 — and only made their reappearance as part of the much-maligned 1979 edition and its immediate trial antecedents. (The 1928 edition did add an optional prayer for the “gift and heritage of children” and their upbringing, but apart from this there is no reference to procreation in the 1928 marriage rite.) Thus the American prayer-book tradition entirely omitted or downplayed any reference to procreation until the current version, where it makes an appearance with the note of its provisionality. (The present form of the Roman Catholic nuptial mass also places the references to progeny in parentheses.)

This is, of course, natural. For the Church, unlike the Jewish tradition described above, never made procreation a necessary end or good of marriage, even when it gave it pride of place in exhorting the bride and groom; and did not allow infertility to stand as an impediment to marriage, or serve as a cause for divorce (unless concealed prior to marriage). Moreover, the Church does not hold marriage to end with menopause, or after hysterectomy or prostatectomy, or any other circumstance rendering one or both of the couple permanently infertile. Thus, while the church has seen “the gift and heritage of children” to be a blessing, it has never regarded it as essential to the institution of marriage.

For the sake of the children

As the preface to the marriage rite in the BCP (1662 and again now in 1979) reminds us, however, sexuality and marriage do often involve the mechanics of conception and birth. But as these texts also show, procreation is the beginning of a process, which includes the care and nurture of children in the knowledge and love of the Lord. In one way this reflects the same direction taken by the whole of Scripture, from Eden to the New Jerusalem, from the biological beginnings to the incarnate and spiritual presence of God in and with the new transfigured human community.

As a practical matter, same-sex couples can fulfill the intention of procreation though in-vitro fertilization, or by adoption. Surely the biblical imagery of adoption (in the New Testament) is at least as powerful — and as grace-filled — as the biblical imagery of birth — and we have the prime example of foster-fatherhood in Saint Joseph himself, the patron of the Universal Church. Surely this fulfillment of the upbringing of otherwise abandoned children in the way of the Lord is a noble task commendable to all people.

Jacob Milgrom has reflected on this in light of the rather different Jewish traditions and law, in his magisterial work on Leviticus, and suggests that adoption is one means for same-sex couples to fulfill this part of the good of procreation. (Milgrom notes that the Levitical prohibition on male homosexuality does not apply to non-Jews, about which I hope to say more in a later series of posts, to address the biblical texts addressing same-sex relations.) Writing to Jewish homosexuals, Milgrom advises that in order to fulfil the “first commandment” they ought to

adopt children. Although adoption was practiced in the ancient world (as attested in Babylonian law), there is no biblical procedure or institution of adoption. As a result the institution of adoption is absent from rabbinic jurisprudence. Yet there are isolated cases of a kind of pseudo-of adoption in the Bible... Adoption is a certainly a possibility today. Lesbian couples have an additional advantage. Not only do they not violate Biblical law, but through artificial insemination each can become the natural mother of her children. (Leviticus 17-22, 1787)

Surely, from a Christian perspective, true religion does not lie in procreation, but in part in caring for orphans. (James 1:27) So in the broader sense in which procreation itself is the beginning of a process, same-sex couples (and infertile mixed sex couples) are capable of fulfilling the “procreative end” or benefitting from this “good” of sexuality even though their own sexual relationship does not produce the children they adopt, nurture, and care for.

Conclusions

I acknowledge that apart from in vitro fertilization only a fertile male and female couple can accomplish the first steps of procreation. But as I have shown, the capacity to procreate is neither essential to marriage nor inseparable from its other goods.

This leaves us with the obvious question: What is it about males and females (apart from the capacity to procreate) that should limit marriage to such couples? Asked another way, What is present in a sterile mixed-sex couple that is lacking in a same-sex couple, apart from the difference in sex? I think the only reasonable answer is, The difference in sex is precisely the issue.

Now, getting to this point after all the forgoing might seem ludicrous, since we know that folks approve of mixed-sex marriage and disapprove of same-sex relationships precisely because of the sex of the couple. The reason I have taken this course, however, is to disprove the rationalization for this restriction on the basis of the capacity to procreate.

So I will in subsequent posts turn to the other goods of marriage (union and representation) to see if these are essential to marriage, or limited to mixed-sex couples. In short, I will address the question of whether there is something essential about men and women, apart from their ability (in some cases) to procreate, that would distinguish their unions from those of same-sex couples.

Tobias Haller BSG


Update: My reflection continues with True Union (1).

Further Update: This post and those that follow, expanded and supplemented with much additional material, form part of Reasonable and Holy, published by Seabury Books and available on order from Church Publishing Incorporated.

September 7, 2007

Madeleine L'Engle RIP


This dear woman died yesterday, but I only heard the news this afternoon. I had the joy of working with her from time to time on the Diocesan Close -- she was working on reorganizing the Library, and I was the part-time Diocesan Convention office coordinator, in addition to my half-time service as pastor of Saint Paul's, Yonkers.

One of my fondest memories of her is of a day I celebrated the weekday Mass in one of the Cathedral's apsidal chapels. Madeleine was a regular at these weekday gatherings, and always a joy to see. This particular day, just as I began my sermon, a very loud organ recital began in the nave. (Cathedral scheduling, right?!) As I shrugged in some frustration, Madeleine gathered the other few present for the liturgy up to the front row, shouting, "It's not a Eucharist without the sermon!" and I delivered my sermon in a literal huddle, all of us gathered arms on shoulders. I can still see her upturned radiant face and sparkling eyes, with the sunlight from the east-facing stained-glass windows washing across her eager expression, yearning for and savoring my poor words that midday as if they were precious draughts of water in the desert.

May she rest in peace and rise in glory.

Tobias Haller BSG

September 6, 2007

Afflicted For Your Consolation


Fessenden House • September 7 2000 • Tobias Haller BSG
Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also.
All of us have heard, I’m sure, of spontaneous acts of self-sacrifice that happen from time to time. A heroic soldier saves his platoon by throwing himself on a grenade. A brave fire-fighter enters a burning building a second time to rescue a child. An old man gives his life-preserver to a young woman as the ocean liner sinks. And who can forget the image from a few years ago as a man helped victims from the frigid water at the end of an airport runway, hoisting person after person to safety as he slowly froze, and eventually sank beneath the icy waters.
+ + +
I’d like to share one more example with you, which I’d not heard of it until I came across it recently. Back when scientists were working on atom bombs at Los Alamos, early models were tested manually. That is, sub-critical masses of plutonium were pushed together and, when the chain reaction began, they were separated with a highly specialized tool — a screwdriver! Unfortunately, on one of the test days, just as the chain reaction was beginning, the screwdriver which should have separated the two chunks of plutonium slipped. The air began to turn blue with the unearthly glow of radioactivity. One of the young scientists, instead of cowering back in horror, reached out, and grabbing the two halves of the critical mass with his bare hands, slowly pried them apart. Naturally, or perhaps I should say “unnaturally,” he absorbed a lethal dose of radiation, and died nine days later as a result, but the others in the room survived. The young man’s name was Louis.
+ + +
When I read this story it struck me that it may have been the inspiration behind the scene in the Star Trek movie, where Spock enters a room full of radiation and, at the cost of his own life, closes a leaking warp drive with his bare hands. As he dies, he reminds Kirk that “the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one.”
This phrase is itself powerfully reminiscent of Jesus’ own teaching concerning the greatest love, and of his action in laying down his life for his friends. But what I want to say tonight is that there is a distinct difference between these other self-sacrificial incidents and the sacrifice of Jesus Christ; there is a crucial distinction between these spontaneous acts of heroism and the dedicated lives of the sisters and brothers — including another Louis — who along with Constance, Frances, Thecla, Ruth and Charles, and many others, laid down their lives in Memphis during that raging epidemic of Yellow Fever.
And the difference I point out — with absolutely no wish to minimize the heroism or the self-sacrifice of any of those other brave soldiers, firefighters, or physicists — is this: their acts of bravery were spontaneous. Given more time to think it through they might have acted differently than they did. That they acted on an impulse may be a sign of their particular virtuousness, or perhaps a witness to the general capacity for self-sacrifice that all people have deep in their hearts, and which they will act upon — sometimes — if their equally powerful urge to self-preservation doesn’t have the time to interpose its contrary force.
But about Jesus Christ, and about the Martyrs of Memphis whom we commemorate tonight, there can be no such question. Their heroism was not the gutsy bravado of spontaneous action, but the patient application of dutiful service. Jesus Christ and the Martyrs of Memphis did not throw themselves on a grenade; they did not run headlong into a burning building; they did not jump forward to pry apart a critical mass.
No, Jesus Christ went to Jerusalem knowing that the cross lay ahead of him, that death awaited him; that this was to be the hour in which the Father would be glorified, and this was how God chose to be glorified. And the sisters and brothers who walked the way of the cross down to Memphis, though they might not have known for certain that death awaited them, surely knew the risk, as ninety percent of the population fell ill, and over 5,000 died. The brave souls who served in Memphis didn’t know what caused the Yellow Fever that took so many lives — it would be years before Walter Reed made the connection — but they knew that people were failing and perishing, and they set their course to stand by and serve the sick, and to die with the dying — deliberately and devotedly.
+ + +
Jesus said, whoever serves me must follow me — and sometimes that following will be the headlong leaping to cover a grenade with ones’ own body, or to enter an inferno and throw someone else to safety even as one perishes; sometimes that followingwill be a sudden bare-handed wrenching apart of the lethal mass that threatens life and limb — but more often, that following will be the slow and deliberate way of service to others, the way that with hands busy putting others first, sets the self down unselfconsciously on the shelf, sometimes misplacing it, and sometimes losing it. The way that follows Jesus is the way of the cross. Whoever serves him must follow him, and like it or not, that is the way he went, and that is what he carried.
Whether on the road to Jerusalem or the road to Memphis, Jesus goes before us, bearing his cross, and where he is, there will his servant be.+


The icon of the Martyrs of Memphis is by the hand of your servant in 1999. The scroll in the hand of He Who Is speaks of "the greater love" of laying down one's life.
To see a larger image of the icon, click on it.
Fessenden House is a ministry that began as outreach to people with AIDS and later evolved into a ministry for men in recovery from substance addiction. Please visit their website and support this effort.












August 31, 2007

1. Where the Division Lies

In the debates over sexuality, a number of arguments have been advanced on both sides. I sometimes feel that the debaters are talking past each other, and that they are coming from totally different conceptual worlds. The problem appears, then, to lie in the premises (or assumptions) that underlie the varying points of view. If we are to come to a resolution of our differences — and it is a big if — it will be important that we begin with certain agreed-upon principles — if we can — and work step-by-step through to that resolution. So what I would like to begin to do in this and succeeding posts to this blog is to begin to unpack and challenge what I perceive to be the underlying premises or assumptions of the traditional view, in an effort to get behind the “reassertions” to find out if there is an actual basis of agreement from which a different settlement might be reached — or if we really are thinking and working from two radically incompatible bases.

In these reflections I want to deal with all of the apparatus of Scripture, reason and tradition. I will in part be challenging the rational basis of a negative view of same-sex relationships because the traditionalist assertion often goes beyond a merely religious disapprobation — that is, many if not most of those who think homosexuality is wrong do not see it as wrong merely in a religious sense — the way, for example an Orthodox Jew might say that it is wrong to eat pork, but not hold a Gentile to that standard — but wrong in a moral or ethical or even legal sense, rightly subject not only to sectarian reproof, but secular regulation; in short, not only immoral but illegal. This is not to say that all who hold any number of things to be immoral wish them to be illegal: in a pluralistic society we recognize that morality is not always subject to legislation. However, in the present case, there are more than a few religious conservatives who are also willing to see (at the extreme) state sanctions against same-sex relationships, or (at a minimum) a denial of state approval in recognition of such relationships.

In order to make this case, it is clear that the voices of the tradition have gone beyond a simple religious basis for their opinion. The primary evidence for this lies in the arguments often advanced in light of an apparent awareness that a scriptural case alone does not bear sufficient weight to “settle” the matter — for if it did, no appeals to natural law or assertion of the complementarity of the anatomy of the sexes (to cite two common examples) would be necessary.

I would like then, to turn to the various arguments advanced, and examine the premises upon which the traditional case is most often made. It is important first of all to tease apart the general from the specific by asking what, specifically, is held to be “wrong” about same-sex relationships, and “right” about mixed-sex relationships.

As a starting point, most of those who oppose same-sex relationships oppose all such relationships, regardless of aspects of fidelity, mutuality, and so on — thus issues rightly and widely recognized as “moral” are held to be irrelevant. At the same time, the conservative view recognizes that these values do exist, and are necessary in a mixed-sex relationship; that is, as commonly put, sexual relationships are appropriate only within the context of a faithful, life-long, loving, mixed-sex marriage. So it appears that the argument from the conservative position is reducible to the irreducible fact of the sex of the couple — the sex difference must be present for a sexual relationship to be capable of being moral, so that even if a same-sex couple possesses all of the other moral values, the lack of sex-difference still renders the relationship immoral.

What this must mean, logically, is that there is some character or quality inherent in the sex-difference that is morally determinative in and of itself, viewed apart from any other aspect. There are two such qualities often advanced as premises:

  • that the purpose of sexuality is procreation, and only heterosexual sex is capable of it;
  • that heterosexual sex represents a joining of two distinct complementaries
In a subsequent post I will address the first assertion.

Tobias Haller BSG



Update: The discussion continues with Pro-Creation.

Further Update: This post and those that follow, expanded and supplemented with much additional material, now form part of Reasonable and Holy, published by Seabury Books and available now on order from Church Publishing Incorporated.

Wrong Reason

In response to the previous post a discussion ensued concerning the difference between Richard Hooker’s conception of reason and of that of the Enlightenment. I suggested that Hooker’s use of the word is broader than that of the Enlightenment philosophers, but actually quite close to a contemporary understanding of reason as “rationality” — the ability to understand, think, and communicate. In short, this is not very far from what people today would call “common sense.” This understanding is far less rigorous than the “right reason” of the Stoic and later philosophers.

“Right reason” in the sense that Hooker uses the term is always contextual. It is not divorced from the world-view in which it finds itself, unlike the Enlightenment’s notion of an autonomous or pure reason. It is a rational faculty that is common to all people (other than infants and the mentally challenged), and it is in large part exercised in that community, rather than in autonomy. As Hooker put it,

Reason is the director of man’s Will by discovering in action what is good. For the Laws of well-doing are the dictates of right Reason. Children, which are not as yet come unto those years whereat they may have; again, innocents, which are excluded by natural defect from ever having; thirdly, madmen, which for the present cannot possibly have the use of right Reason to guide themselves, have for their guide the Reason that guideth other men; which are tutors over them to seek and to procure their good for them. In the rest there is that light of Reason, whereby good may be known from evil, and which discovering the same rightly is termed right. (I.7.4)

The problem with notions of “right reason” in a natural law context arise when defined as “the faculty which allows all people naturally to understand as good that which is good.” This can lead to the “no true Scotsman” fallacy:

No Scotsman drinks Irish whiskey.
But McPherson drinks Irish whiskey.
Ah, but then McPherson’s no true Scotsman!

For example, in the sexuality debate, it leads to the assertion that no rational person could see same-sexuality as good — and that therefore those who make the “choice” in favor of that “lifestyle” do so under the influence of a corrupted culture, or a deficient moral sense (the inability to see as bad that which is bad), or from mere perversity intentionally to do what they know is wrong. The failure here, of course, lies in the fact that those who oppose same-sexuality may equally be influenced by cultural or religious conditioning, a moral blindness (the inability to see as good that which is good) or even a willful perversity that desires wrongfully to control others with whom they disagree.

This is not to say that there may not be many moral principles that can indeed be held in common — but comparing the lists of such moral principles drawn up in various places and times shows that they differ considerably, particularly in the area of sexuality and the structures of family life; and so it is probably best to accept the fact that moral reason is strongly conditioned by culture — undercutting or at least minimizing the idea that a truly universal natural law or reason can be discerned from the examination of actual life.

As a Christian, I prefer (on the authority of the One who gave it) the Summary of the Law and more particularly the Golden Rule as rational rules of thumb for the discernment of morality. I hope to post a longer article on that subject shortly.

Tobias Haller BSG


August 25, 2007

Hooker’s Ladder

Hooker’s Stool or Tripod is one of the great myths of Anglicanism, at least as far as the attribution of it to Richard Hooker. Hooker would have been quite surprised to see some of the explanations of this principle expounded in his name.

The stool or tripod of Scripture, Tradition and Reason, alleged to be Hooker’s, doesn’t stand upright. When one examines Hooker’s actual argument — which extends over many pages — with care, it is plain that his attitude towards these three elements is uneven. First comes Reason, both historically (in time) and naturally (for without Reason we could not understand anything, including the Scripture).

Unto the word of God… we do not add reason as a supplement of any maim or defect therein, but as a necessary instrument, without which we could not reap by the Scripture’s perfection that fruit and benefit which it yieldeth… If knowledge were possible without discourse of natural reason, why should none be found capable thereof but only men; nor men till such time as they come unto ripe and full ability to work by reasonable understanding? — III.viii.10

But Reason can guide people only up to a certain point. “Natural” religion has its limits (at a kind of theism), and it cannot supply the details which only Revelation can provide — the eternal Gospel of salvation in and through Christ. This is where the Church (preceded by God’s chosen people Israel) comes in, with the Revelation and eventual recording of God’s Truth in Scripture. The saving message transmitted by Scripture to us in these latter days could not be discovered by Reason alone, although Reason is essential to understanding the saving message. The two work together in harmony.

Ultimately, when it comes to authority, Tradition doesn’t figure at all in Hooker’s scheme. That’s the surprising thing one discovers in reading Hooker’s Of the Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity. Now that the Church has been commissioned as the keeper of Holy Writ, Hooker argues that

what Scripture doth plainly deliver, to that the first place both of credit and obedience is due; the next whereunto is whatsoever any man can necessarily conclude by force of reason; after these the voice of the Church succeedeth. —V.8.1

Tradition, or custom (as he usually calls it), is to be looked to or retained only when no good reason for change can be brought forth. If good reason can be shown, then, Hooker says, away with Tradition! He eloquently states,

Neither councils nor customs, be they never so ancient and so general, can let [i.e., prevent] the Church from taking away that thing which is hurtful to be retained. Where things have been instituted, which being convenient and good at the first, do afterwards in process of time wax otherwise; we make no doubt but that they may be altered, yea, though councils or customs general have received them. —IV.14.5

and

All things cannot be of ancient continuance, which are expedient and needful for the ordering of spiritual affairs: but the Church being a body which dieth not hath always power, as occasion requireth, no less to ordain that which never was, than to ratify what hath been before... The Church hath authority to establish that for an order at one time, which at another time it may abolish, and in both it may do well... —V.8.1,30

So, as an alternative to the stool or the tripod, I offer the following analogy. Hooker’s so-called stool is really a ladder: the twin legs of which are Scripture and Reason; the rungs are Tradition. When a rung is worn or broken, it may be replaced, but it must always be supported at both ends. And let us not forget that ladders are for climbing; they are not an end in themselves. For at the top of this ladder (upon which sometimes we appear to climb, but more often are being carried in rescue) there awaits us a Wisdom which puts all our human argument to utter shame.

Tobias Haller BSG


August 24, 2007

Projection

a thought:

Some of the Primates appear to think the TEC House of Bishops has the kind of authority they think they have.

tsh

Of Faith and Theology

It has been said a number of times by a number of people in our current storm that much of the turmoil stems from the failure to articulate a theology concerning same-sex relationships prior to authorizing them, or electing a bishop who happens to live in one.

This seems to me, in addition to reflecting the difference between an idealist and a realist mentality that I sketched out in an earlier post, to place too high a premium on the value of theology — to treat it as primary rather than secondary. (I leave for another time the question of whether this is even properly speaking a theological issue rather than an ethical or moral one. And this is not to deny that I think a good case can be made, and should be made.)

But even in other areas of our life in Christ, I would like to suggest that it is not theology that lies at the heart of the Church, but faith. Faith comes first. Theology then succeeds as an effort to rationalize and understand that which is admittedly beyond our full comprehension. Theology is always asymptotic.

Faith bears a relationship to theology similar to that which exists between π and its enumeration in digital form. To develop the analogy: consider π as standing in for God as God is, and the enumeration in digital form (3.1415...) as the work of theology. π is the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter. That is what it is — or rather, that is a description of what it is. But its value transcends our capacity to enumerate. Nor can it be constructed with a straightedge and compass — it is beyond both geometry and arithmetic. Which does not mean that people have not sought over the centuries various ways of coming to better and better approximations, all the while realizing that the elusive reality can never be exactly expressed by billions of digits, even though simply represented by that modest lower case Greek letter.

Anselm famously said that theology was “faith seeking understanding.” The faith comes first — faith in the God whose existence we cannot prove, Anselm’s own ontological effort notwithstanding. Faith comes first and then the seeking; and the seeking never quite completely finds. We do not give up on the theological quest, however, as Aquinas was said to have done after his transcendent vision of God — for he felt he had accomplished the goal all his theology was straining after but falling short of grasping. What we realize is that it is our faith — our relationship with God (and perhaps it is as well to remember that π itself is also a relationship rather than a thing!) — that our faith is both the basis for our theology, and the place of repose when our theology has reached its limits. It is not in our understanding that we will find God, but in our Love.

Tobias Haller BSG


Ghost in the Machine

It came as no surprise to me to see that, according to a report in The Church Times, Archbishop Akinola’s recent agonized public letter was apparently ghosted, or at least very heavily edited, by someone other than the Archbishop. That it seems to have been Martyn Minns also comes as no surprise. (He is, after all, the Archbishop’s North American Representative.)

The reason I was not surprised lies in the text itself. Anyone who has heard the Archbishop speak or read transcripts of interviews with him, or any of his doubtlessly authentic writings, could see the difference in style between those texts and the agonized letter immediately. One could easily say the same concerning Archbishop Orombi, whose ghost writer is probably much closer to him than Abuja is to Fairfax. It does not take computer analysis to recognize such differences or similarities in style.

However, it would be quite wrong to suggest that these archbishops are no more than sock puppets for an American conservative point of view. It may be that the holy ghost writers, far from putting words into the mouths of those for whom they perform this not-so-unusual editorial function, are helping to restrain some of the more exuberant language in which the archbishops have been known to indulge, and to help frame their ideas in a form more palatable to a broader audience. So there is no need to raise the specter of colonial imperialism to join the ghost of authorship. Doubtless Akinola and Orombi both agree with the sentiments and ideas expressed above their names, whether the words are their own or not. Theories of verbal inspiration aside, it is ultimately the meaning that counts.

And it is the meaning that is wrong. As I said in my previous post, The Episcopal Church is not going to hell in a handbasket. Erroneous or heretical views may be expressed by individuals from time to time — and this happens among self-styled reasserters at least as often as it does among reappraisers, and in churches other than The Episcopal Church. But in spite of the publicity — and book sales — attendant on these fringe episodes, they remain precisely that — the reflections of a “heretic fringe.” There is no doubt some overlap between those who favor a revised understanding of the moral status of same-sexuality with those who embrace the odd heretical view; but there is also significant overlap between those who are opposed to such a revision and those who embrace heretical views.

For example, some years ago in the early stages of discussion on sexuality, the House of Bishops Theology Committee issued a document that stated that the divine image in humanity is incomplete without both male and female. (Karl Barth and John Paul II both made similar statements in their arguments against same-sexuality.) This erroneous idea contradicts the doctrine of the Incarnation, which asserts that the divine image in humanity is complete in Jesus Christ, and present in every human being. (The Angelic Doctor addressed this error at I.Q93.6.) It should serve as a warning to all concerned to see how far from orthodoxy some can wander — apparently without noticing it — in their efforts to “reassert” the church’s tradition on sexuality.

Ultimately, it doesn’t matter to me where bad ideas come from — or good ones for that matter. Whether the words come from Abuja or Alexandria, from the Vatican or Cape Town — or even from the Bronx! — their meaning and significance must be weighed for their concordance with the heart of the gospel as revealed in Jesus Christ, and in accordance with his teaching. He is the standard of Truth against which all our theories must be tested.

Tobias Haller BSG


August 22, 2007

Why Others Stand As Well

In an interview entitled, “Why We Stand,” published on the web site of the Diocese of Pittsburgh, former church history professor the Rev. Dr. Leslie Fairfield, describes his view of the present division in The Episcopal Church. In doing so, he presents a fair view of his own faith position, but paints a barely recognizable picture of those with whom he disagrees. As one of those, I would like to take this opportunity to offer an alternative portrayal.

Fairfield dates the origin of our present division into “opposing camps” to the early 19th century, and the introduction of biblical criticism — with its scholarly examination of Scripture, leading to conclusions that challenged ideas such as Moses’ authorship of the Pentateuch, and developed theories about how the Gospels were composed. However, he might as easily have traced this stream of critical thinking back to the time of the Enlightenment, or even earlier to the Renaissance, when thinkers such as Erasmus began to grapple with the text of Scripture in critical and scholarly ways. Which is not to say that even earlier scholastics and theologians of the Patristic era did not also engage in a critical examination of the texts, using the reasonable tools at their disposal to harvest the benefit of close inspection. The church has been wrestling with Scriptures for as long as those texts have been in its keeping.

Fairfield, however, loses this long historical view of the church’s theological richness, and instead focuses on what he calls “Modernism.” Unfortunately, he then proceeds to attribute to this movement a whole range of opinions (as “logical conclusions”) that few, if any, of those who consider themselves progressive would think either logical or defensible.

Fairfield produces Bishop James Pike — last century’s favorite whipping boy — but fails to acknowledge the origins of Pike’s doubts in his own personal loss, and the extent to which Pike was seen as a peripheral and tragic figure, allowed to keep his seat in the House of Bishops more out of charity than conviction. Bishop Pike no more represented the mainstream of Episcopal thought then than Bishop Spong does now.

On the contrary — speaking for myself but knowing I represent a goodly number of those tagged “re-appraisers” — I can affirm each and every statement that Fairfield describes as “Classical Biblical and Anglican theology” and reject the doctrines he attributes to Modernism.

It is often said that you can only have a reasonable discussion with those with whom you disagree when you can state the opposite side’s case in language they recognize and affirm. Fairfield doesn’t really want to engage in dialogue, however. He already thinks he has the Truth sown up, and any who disagree with him are beyond the pale. He feels “there is no halfway point... between these two opposing religions” — and so has created not simply a straw man but a straw church to assail, rather than a reasonable articulation of the opposite side with which intelligent debate might be undertaken. This is tragic, in that it obscures the things about which we really do disagree — which have little or nothing to do with his caricature of Modernism, in which few progressive Episcopalians will recognize themselves portrayed.

Rather, we will stand upon Christ’s Gospel — which teaches us that we are to love God and our neighbor as ourselves; which means, in part, to give to every human being the respect and dignity worthy of one who bears the image of God; to take the Scriptures seriously and as authoritative indications of God’s will — but as inspired, not dictated, and requiring the employment of the wealth of rational and spiritual tools at our disposal in order to, as Richard Hooker said, “reap by the Scripture’s perfection that fruit and benefit which it yieldeth.”

Here we stand — ready to worship the One God — in Trinity of Persons, Incarnate in Jesus Christ for the salvation of the world — with any who will stand with us on the basis of this Faith.

Tobias Haller BSG


This essay appeared in somewhat different form at Lionel Deimel's website.

August 13, 2007

Hiatus

Off for a brief "vacance" and a time of limited interneting. Peace to all in the meantime...

August 10, 2007

As we have always taught...

My brothers, you descendants of Abraham’s family, and others who fear God, to us the message of this salvation has been sent. Because the residents of Jerusalem and their leaders did not recognize him or understand the words of the prophets that are read every sabbath, they fulfilled those words by condemning him. Even though they found no cause for a sentence of death, they asked Pilate to have him killed. When they had carried out everything that was written about him, they took him down from the tree and laid him in a tomb. But God raised him from the dead; and for many days he appeared to those who came up with him from Galilee to Jerusalem, and they are now his witnesses to the people. And we bring you the good news that what God promised to our ancestors he has fulfilled for us, their children, by raising Jesus; as also it is written in the second psalm, “You are my Son; today I have begotten you.” As to his raising him from the dead, no more to return to corruption, he has spoken in this way, “I will give you the holy promises made to David.” Therefore he has also said in another psalm, “You will not let your Holy One experience corruption.” For David, after he had served the purpose of God in his own generation, died, was laid beside his ancestors, and experienced corruption; but he whom God raised up experienced no corruption. Let it be known to you therefore, my brothers, that through this man forgiveness of sins is proclaimed to you; by this Jesus everyone who believes is set free from all those sins from which you could not be freed by the law of Moses. Beware, therefore, that what the prophets said does not happen to you: “Look, you scoffers! Be amazed and perish, for in your days I am doing a work, a work that you will never believe, even if someone tells you.” (Acts 13:26-41)

This passage from the early history of the church is a reminder of several things:

  • Those in the position to understand the scriptures sometimes don’t, and those with the authority to interpret them are sometimes wrong.
  • Sometimes those who are sure they are doing God’s will are working at cross-purposes with God.
  • God still somehow makes the best of things. Sometimes these things are amazing and completely unexpected and unbelievable.
  • So God takes a long time to do so — from a human perspective. (“A thousand ages in thy sight are like an evening gone...”) Even though David’s words had been sung for fully a thousand years, they only came to realization in Christ, and then were seen (by those with faith to believe) to mean something different from what people thought they meant all along. Much of the world still rejects this interpretation, even after 2,000 more years.
  • Jesus came to bring liberation from sin, which obedience to the law of Moses could not accomplish.
  • This too may take a long time to sink in.
  • There is abundant evidence to show that the church has changed, developed, and evolved in many of its teachings over time, not just on moral questions but on doctrine. (A clear articulation of the Trinity and the Incarnation took about 400 years. The canon of Scripture itself remains unsettled to this day between the various branches of Christendom. There are many acceptable theories concerning the Atonement.)
  • Scoffing is not an appropriate response to the possibility of a new understanding of God’s purpose or plan. A humility that admits one may be mistaken, even after having believed something to be true for a long time, or with great personal conviction based on one’s own experience, is advisable.
  • We don’t have all the answers. God does. And even though God has revealed much, we still dare not claim to have understood perfectly — our knowledge is as partial as our love is imperfect.
  • It appears there is a relationship between our ability to love one another and our ability to understand one another.
  • God commanded the former. Perhaps we should work on that as a way to accomplish the latter.

Tobias Haller BSG


Friday Cat Blogging


The late Oxford Deodatus contemplating assisting in the preparation of the calendar, but also concerned about the avian distractions on the balcony.