Alastair's Adversaria

Blogging Through Chauvet’s ‘Symbol and Sacrament’ – Introduction

Posted on December 22, 2011 by Alastair Roberts

First published in 1987 in French as Symbole et Sacrement: Un relecture sacramentelle de l’existence chrétienne, Louis-Marie Chauvet’s Symbol and Sacrament was one of the first thinkers to think through what the linguistic turn might mean for the area of sacramental theology. A French Catholic theologian, Chauvet’s work on the subject is packed with scintillating insight, whether theological, philosophical, or biblical. His influence can be traced in many subsequent writers on the subject.

I was first introduced to his work by my friend, Ben Kautzer and read through the lengthy Symbol and Sacrament volume a year ago. I decided that over the Christmas period I would start to blog a detailed summary of Chauvet’s book, both for the purpose of refreshing my memory on the subject, and to introduce others to his work.

Symbol and Sacrament is forbidding in its length, and may not be the most accessible for those unacquainted with phenomenology, and philosophers such as Martin Heidegger. Hopefully the following series will provide a useful summary for those who would not otherwise read Symbol and Sacrament itself. If you find my summary helpful, perhaps you might also appreciate Chauvet’s own The Sacraments: The Word of God at the Mercy of the Body, in which his principle insights are presented at a more easily digestible length.

Chauvet begins by remarking upon the fact that an appreciation of the diversity of the sacraments and the heterogeneity of the elements comprising the realm of ‘sacramentality’ has led to a movement away from the traditional preoccupation with the question of the ‘sacraments in general’ (1). What Chauvet seeks to provide is a ‘foundational theology of sacramentality’ with the sacraments as ‘symbolic figures allowing us entrance into, and empowerment to live out, the (arch-)sacramentality which is the very essence of Christian existence’ (2). The sacraments unite the figurative and the pragmatic orders: ‘whatever we are permitted to see there is given to us precisely that we may simultaneously live it.’ The sacraments are thus at once both revelation and empowerment.

In seeking to maintain the revelation and empowerment of the sacraments, the Scholastics framed them in terms of the categories of ‘sign’ and ‘cause’. Chauvet argues for a fundamental shift in our framing of the sacraments, favouring the terms of language and symbol over cause and instrument. This shift represents a challenge to the metaphysical presuppositions that ground dominant traditional approaches to the sacraments. Chauvet’s theological articulation of the place of the sacraments rests upon a philosophical position that underlies it.

Chauvet’s case begins with an establishment of this philosophical ground, before situating the sacraments within the symbolic order of the Church. The sacraments are

…one element among others in this vast and yet coherent psychic structure which all together makes up Christian identity … a series of connections between Scripture (the level of cognition), sacrament (the level of thanksgiving), and ethics (the level of action). (3)

The sacraments have a unique and essential place and function, which cannot be substituted for by anything else.

Underlying this entire approach to the sacraments is ‘a particular understanding of the relations between God and humankind.’ The fact that God communicates his grace through the sacraments raises the question of what sort of God they imply, a God who ‘takes flesh in the sacraments’ and ‘through them … reaches into the very corporality of believers.’

Symbol and Sacrament Posts:
Chapter 1: Onto-Theology in Classical Sacramental Theology
Chapter 2:I: Heidegger and the Overcoming of Metaphysics
Chapter 2:II: Theology After Heidegger
Chapter 3: Subjects and Mediation
Chapter 4:I: Symbol and Sign
Chapter 4:II: Language and the Body
Chapter 5: The Structure of Christian Identity
Chapter 6: Scripture and Sacrament
Chapter 7: Sacrament and Ethics

Posted in Sacramental Theology, The Sacraments, Theological, Theology | 13 Comments

The Cancelled Question Mark

Posted on December 21, 2011 by Alastair Roberts

Great quotation from John Milbank:

People who fondly imagine themselves the subjects of their ‘own’ choices entirely will, in reality, be the most manipulated subjects, and the most incapable of being influenced by goodness and beauty. This is why, in the affluent Anglo-Saxon West today, there is so much pervasively monotonous ugliness and tawdriness that belies its wealth, as well as why there are so many people adopting (literally) the sing-song accent of self-righteous complacency and vacuous uniformity, with its rising lilt of a feigned questioning at the end of every phrase. This intonation implies that any overassertion is a polite infringement of the freedom of the other, and yet at the same time its merely rhetorical interrogation suggests that the personal preference it conveys is unchallengeable, since it belongs within the total set of formally correct exchange transactions. Pure liberty is pure power – whose other name is evil.

From Leithart.com.

Posted in Quotations, Society | Leave a comment

Transferring Old Posts

Posted on December 18, 2011 by Alastair Roberts

Apologies, everyone. I just transferred posts from my old blog, but have discovered that a large number of them contain spam links. I am deleting those posts as we speak. Lord-willing, when this is all figured out, you should be able to search posts from both blogs together here.

Update: All of the spam links should now have been removed. If you find any, please alert me to them.

Posted in Public Service Announcement | Leave a comment

How We Forgot What Sonship Means

Posted on December 17, 2011 by Alastair Roberts

In last night’s post on the subject of relationships and intimacy in the modern world, I suggested that the modern form of society has led to a shift in our ways of perceiving relationships, which affects the way in which we understand some of the most primary relationships mentioned in Scripture. Perhaps a more concrete example of the way in which these changes may affect our understanding of relationship with God might help here

When we hear the expression ‘sons of God’, we tend to think of the intimacy that can exist between fathers and sons in young childhood. This is the most intense form of father-son relationship that most of us have experienced. However, if this concept is more clearly shaped, as I believe that it ought to be, by the relationship that exists between the Father and the Son, as manifested in Christ, our concept of sonship might be significantly altered. This relationship is not primarily that which exists between a younger child and his father (although hints of such a relationship may not be entirely absent), but that which exists between two adults. In fact, in Galatians 4:1-7 Paul might even suggest that it is only mature adults that can truly be called ‘sons’, and that the category isn’t truly appropriate to those who are still in their minority.

Christ’s sonship is characterized by his performance of the work of his Father, trusting and obeying his Father, bearing the name of his Father, being sent by, speaking, and acting in his Father’s stead, imitating his Father’s example and bearing his image, guarding and maintaining the rights, interests, and property of his Father, receiving a marriage feast that the Father is preparing for him, and entering into the inheritance and blessing of his Father. Intimacy is certainly not absent from this picture, but the place of this intimacy must be understood in terms of the emotional intensity of the relationship that could exist between fathers and their adult sons in a society where sons tended to remain in the same area and work under their fathers’ leadership in the property and trade that they would one day inherit and in which they would succeed their fathers.

As relationships between fathers and sons are seldom so strong or formative into adulthood in today’s society, we use our understanding of an intense emotional relationship of intimacy between fathers and their infant or very young sons to characterize our filial relationship to God. However, in the first century Jewish context in which Jesus lived an intensely powerful relationship between fathers and their adult sons were not uncommon (such close relationships appear at several points in the parables and gospel narratives), and the power of such relationships did not primarily consist in some generic ‘intimacy’ or in the intensity of emotional connections.

As our understanding of the relationship of sonship has been transformed as society has changed, and we read modern notions of sonship back into the scriptures, one of the effects is to infantilize our understanding of our relationship with God. Being sons of God becomes associated with passive emotional attachment detached from active discipleship. This infantilization encourages the loss of the place of the mind and the marginalization of the virtues of the mature person (courage, strength, self-discipline, self-sacrifice, etc.) within our understanding of the Christian life. Sonship becomes an almost entirely internalized concept of felt intimacy, rather than an outward looking concept of representation and commission. It becomes a private bond, rather than a bond that is lived out in a manner that is essentially visible to the whole of society. It can also become a narcissistic connection, rather than one that celebrates the broader familial bonds within which it includes us. It can become detached from the context of entering into inheritance.

If all of this is correct, then reading the Scriptures in terms of our modern form of relationships has had a powerful effect upon our understanding of one of the most central of its truths, arguably distorting and reducing it to a significant extent.

Posted in Bible, Society, Theology | 10 Comments

Relationships and Intimacy in the Modern World

Posted on December 17, 2011 by Alastair Roberts

Following the Industrial Revolution, the household has been displaced as a centre of collaborative production and economic activity. Business has largely migrated away from the context of the home to the workplace. Family businesses and trades are less common nowadays: the child is less likely to be the apprentice of their parents, being trained to work with them and like them. Education has also largely left the home. Not only is the child less likely to learn their trade from their parents, much of the task of their more general education falls on the shoulders of professionals outside of the home environment.

With both partners in relationships now frequently working in full time jobs outside of the home, the space of the home becomes a place for retreat into private domesticity. Without a partner staying at home, the home also becomes less of a zone where the cycle of daily community and neighbourhood life occurs.

At the same time, technological developments have profoundly changed the character of daily family life. Where once shared routines of family life were essential for life together, and for the provision of heat, food, and resources, modern technology has freed us from many of these previously shared tasks. Where once the entire family could have different contributing tasks to the keeping of the hearth and the tending and feeding of its fire, for instance, now we just turn up the thermostat. The onerous and skilled character of tasks such as washing also led to the family becoming a place of differentiated roles in community.

The centripetal force of certain zones of the home has also been considerably diminished. The family meal table no longer possesses the same centrality for many homes. The ‘hearth’ means much less when every room in the house has warmth. Even the TV has been displaced, as children and parents increasingly have TVs and computers in their own rooms. In stark contrast to previous ages, when all members of a house would spend much of their time in the same room, we can go for hours without seeing other members of our households. The common places of the house have languished, while the private places have been filled out.

Even besides the essential shared routines of family life, the shared rituals of family life also seem to have fallen by the wayside for many. Daily family meal times and their rituals are easier to avoid in an age of microwaves and ready meals. More channels, means of recording, and TVs decrease the likelihood of shared family TV watching.

Alongside these developments, the last few centuries have also witnessed a weakening of our connection to place and to neighbourhood. Increased mobility and communications infrastructure enable us to move further away from the areas where our relatives live, and even live at some distance from our workplaces, while maintaining a form of contact. It enables us to travel for many miles to reach a church of our choice, rather than attend one in our locality.

A movement into cities has uprooted people from communities to which their families had belonged for generations. This loss of an enduring place within a particular community has hastened the privatization and concentration of family life in the nuclear family, and weakened the place of the family as a stronger presence in a community. The loss of connection to a particular place and community has also encouraged a ‘voluntarization’ of our relationships, as ‘given’ relationships play less of a role in our lives. Few of us will live in the same community as many of those with whom we studied in primary school for most of the rest of our lives. The uprooted nature of modern existence makes deep and lifelong friendship a rarer flower. The Internet accelerates these developments in several respects.

How might all of these developments affect our concepts of relationships and community? One of immediate effects has been the sentimentalization of family life, and the romanticization of marriage. When the family home is primarily a private realm of domesticity, detached from the economic, communal, and political spheres, the relationship between husband and wife is increasingly focused upon their romantic bond, and their relationship with their children upon their sentimental bond with them. As most people’s primary activity leaves the context of the home, routines and rituals of family life diminish, the space of the home becomes progressively more clearly apportioned into private rooms, and common spaces exert less of a pull, family life will start to focus on something called ‘quality time’.

Likewise, when one no longer works in the same place as one lives, or encounters one’s neighbours on a daily basis, when generational attachments to particular localities are left behind, and when our communities are almost all voluntary ones, the concept of ‘community’ is radically transformed, and few relationships are ‘given’ any longer.

In many Christian circles today, a lot is said about ‘community’, ‘intimacy’, and ‘relationship’. However, I wonder how powerfully such concepts are being mediated by our historical and social context and situation. In particular, I wonder whether these are often for us akin to the category of ‘quality time’ within the family. No longer having the unavoidable day to day reality of time lived with family and in community, we must create such time, a time which becomes charged with great sentimental significance, coming to bear the mean of the institution.

One of the interesting things about the category of ‘relationship’ as we are apt to employ it, for instance, is just how generic and formless it is. In the past, the bonds between parents and children would have a far more determined character, shaped by countless shared day to day activities, rituals, and routines. The child would also bear a much closer relationship to the trade and work of their parents, and to their position and status in the community. This bond between parent and child extended far beyond our modern sentimental focus to forge one’s identity, place in the world, and destiny.

While we believe that ‘intimacy’ is the most intense form of relationship that there is, it seems to me that in many respects it is a rather anaemic one, losing sight of the way in which some of the most meaningful and important bonds that have shaped people’s lives are drastically reduced by the imposition of such a concept. However, lacking a rich experience of the field of relationships, and investing most of the relational meaning of our lives in a very limited range of relationships of an increasingly undifferentiated form, we have lost the terms and concepts with which to explore the rich and multifaceted relational realm.

Perhaps excessive levels of talk about ‘community’ result from the concept coming into clearer focus as the reality departs. ‘Community’ for many denotes a feeling of togetherness, irrespective of a shared place, way of life, rituals, customs, norms, politics, and identity. As in the case of ‘quality time’ in the family, we feel a vacuum, which must be filled up in some manner. Where a common life no longer really exists as a historical fact, a feeling of togetherness must somehow serve as a substitute reality.

When talking about the relationships that characterize the Christian life, I wonder whether both our language and concepts of relationship have been weakened in a manner that makes it hard to appreciate what these things mean any longer. God’s revelation of his presence in and through a community that shares a deep and strong common life is not the same thing as that presence experienced in the ersatz ‘community’, where feelings of mutual belonging are often substituted for the fact. Similarly, the gravitational pull towards forms of religious expression focused upon intimacy, sentimentality, and romantic attachment may be a result of the fact that our relational palette has been considerably reduced by the character of modern life, as all close relationships start to become subsumed under the generic category of ‘intimacy’, and we no longer can relate to the forms of worship and piety that were meaningful in societies with a richer and finely differentiated relational matrix.

Posted in Society | 14 Comments

Matt Colvin on Junia and Apostleship

Posted on December 14, 2011 by Alastair Roberts

Matt posts some thoughts in response to my earlier post on the subject of Junia as a female apostle in Romans 16:7. He has some helpful remarks on the grammatical case for and against Junia’s apostleship.

Especially helpful is Ephraem Syrus Theol., Ad imitationem proverbiorum (4138: 006)

(“Ὁσίου Ἐφραίμ τοῦ Σύρου ἔργα, vol. 1”, Ed. Phrantzoles, Konstantinos G. Thessalonica: Το περιβόλι της Παναγίας, 1988, Repr. 1995. Page 187, line 6)

Θέλω πρακτικὸς εἶναι καὶ ἐπίσημος ἐν τοῖς ἀδελφοῖς ἢ παραβαίνειν ἐντολὰς καὶ εἶναι αὐτοῖς βδελυκτός.

I translate: “I want to be ready for action, and ἐπίσημος among the brothers, rather than to transgress the commandments and be repugnant to them.”

What is nice about this example is that the parallel construction of the sentence makes clear that there is not a comparison being made, nor any partitive construction, but that ἐν τοῖς ἀδελφοῖς is parallel to αὐτοῖς in the second half, and that both indicate the subjective perceivers of the good qualities the author desires to have — precisely how Wallace and Burer think “among the apostles” should be taken in Romans 16:7.

In the course of the comment thread, I remarked that it is a methodological mistake to think that the interpretation of Romans 16:7 will be determined by inductively concocted “rules” of Greek idiom. The idiom, rather, will be determined by context. As I put it in the comments: “The truth is that in Greek, as in English, it is context and common sense that determines whether Sweeney is a nightingale, or sheep are wolves, or the virgin Mary is a woman (“blessed art thou among…). It is not some special rule about ‘en + dative with verbs’ and ‘en + dative with adjectives.’”

He then briefly explores the concept of a female shaliach in Jewish sources. In my own thinking on the subject, I came to take a step back from parallel forms of representation of another party in my final post on the subject, arguing that we need to attend to the differences between the form of representation engaged in by the son, and the form of representation engaged in by the wife. Such a differentiation maintains that both can equally serve in a representative capacity, but that the wife’s form of representation (and the form of representation of women more generally – this isn’t limited to married women) differs in kind in a manner that might mean that shaliach is not the best word for the woman’s form of representation.

Edit (16/12/11): Matt has reposted some remarks on the subject of Ben Witherington’s exegesis of 1 Timothy 2:11-15, pertinent to the present discussions. There have also been extensive discussions in the comments of my original posts, Matt’s post, and on a post on Junia by Suzanne McCarthy.

Posted in Bible, NT, Theology | 20 Comments

Shiny

Posted on December 14, 2011 by Alastair Roberts

Posted in My Reading | 4 Comments

In Defence of Inefficient Bible Reading

Posted on December 14, 2011 by Alastair Roberts

I took a course on speed reading and effective reading earlier today. The ability to read texts quickly and in a manner that is tailored to clear objectives is obviously an incredibly useful skill. However, one of the things that most struck me while taking the course was the degree to which these were ‘skills’ that I had to unlearn in the process of learning how to read the Bible.

The reading skills of the modern reader are designed for a world with millions of books vying for our attention, with billions of Internet pages, newspapers, magazines, e-mails, texts, letters, journals, and the like. In our world there is an incredible low signal to noise ratio, and you must choose what you read carefully, while also learning how to read quickly, in order to get through as much as you can. We learn to approach texts with a clear set of objectives. We have a list of questions that the text must answer for us. One of the most basic things that fast reading involves, for instance, is silent reading. One cannot truly read rapidly if one is reading aloud, or under one’s breath. Modern reading is also generally private reading. Reading a book aloud in the context of a community is an unusual experience for us. The books that we are used to make few demands of us as readers, even though they may tax us as thinkers. We generally read them from start to finish and then put them to one side.

The Bible is really not like this at all. The Bible is a book that one can never really ‘have read’: one either reads the Bible or one doesn’t read the Bible. The Bible makes a lot of demands of us as readers if we are to be gifted readers of it. Modern texts put themselves purely at our disposal, and by our reading techniques we master them. The Bible must master us and set the terms for our reading. To read the Bible is like learning to read all over again: learning how to slow down, how to read aloud, how to read without objectives, how to process a text that is virtually all signal with no noise, how to meditate on a passage, how to pray a passage.

It also involves deep training in typological and analogical thinking, forms of thought to which the modern mind is less accustomed. Learning how to read the Bible involves learning how to close one’s eyes and open one’s ears. It involves learning how to read with others, in local communities of faith, and with a tradition. It involves learning how a text can read itself and how we can participate in this process. It involves making our home in the text, and treating the text as something that grows to encompass our world. It involves becoming aware of the complex ‘form’ of the Scriptures, and the fact that unhelpful modern habits of reading that can be invited by the fact that we encounter these Scriptures as ‘the Bible’. It involves becoming aware of the close relationship between time and reading: certain books should occasionally be read from start to finish in a single sitting, while other stories are knit into our lives as we live out their patterns of expectation, hope, joy, tension, and solemnity within the Church year.

Perhaps one of the most important lessons that I have learnt over the years for my own Bible reading has been that bringing objectives, questions, and regular reading methods to the text can actually prove profoundly unhelpful. Even too much of a reliance on one regular form of engagement can be unhelpful (if that form of engagement is not the communal reading in the context of the Church’s life). We need to be prepared to let the Scriptures set the terms of our engagement with it and approaching a text with objectives and questions is perhaps the best way in which to stifle the sort of attentiveness that the Bible calls for. We need to learn how to let ourselves and our reading continually be called into question by the text. Approaching the Scripture with a set of reading goals and objectives can be a great way of closing down the imagination, which must always be at the heart of Scripture reading. This all involves a sort of playfulness and openness in our approach to Scripture, a willingness to be taken by surprise, to follow a path without knowing its our destination, to be patient, to be led by the text. The very skills that empower the reading of modern books can make us poor readers of the Bible.

How inefficient is your Scripture reading?

Posted in Bible | 8 Comments

Representation and Ordination: Of Sons and Wives

Posted on December 10, 2011 by Alastair Roberts

Part 1: Some Lengthy Thoughts on Women’s Leadership
Part 2: A Closer Examination of Junia, The Female Apostle

In my previous post, I explored the role of the female apostle, treating her as the female ‘shaliach’ of the lead male apostle. I related the role of Junia to that of Timothy, another example of an apostolic shaliach, and claimed that Junia would have sustained a similar relation to Andronicus as Timothy sustained to Paul.

Although I suggested that there were certain differences between the manners that the two characters would play their roles, and represent the lead apostle, the precise character of these differences was vague and somewhat confusing. In representing Paul, for instance, Timothy was able to embody his authority in a manner that empowered him to teach and exercise Paul’s apostolic authority over other men. Why wouldn’t the female apostle, acting in the authority of her husband be able to do the same? The approach that I took to this was to present an essentially and initially undifferentiated role of apostolic shaliach being restricted from certain forms of representation and focused upon others as it was conditioned as a second step by the gendered role of the woman. I moved, somewhat tentatively, towards the position that the female apostle would have represented the authority of her husband in the leading and teaching of other women.

A degree of analogy here is plain: as Genesis 2-3 reveals, the woman is the assistant of the man and participates in – indeed is essential to – his role and its dignity, similar to the way that the shaliach is the assistant to and representative of his master. However, despite a measure of overlap and several similarities, the manner in which the woman relates to the man as his deaconess seems to differ from the way that the deacon does, not merely in scope and focus, but also in its fundamental character. My dissatisfaction with my earlier expressed position has led me to revisit this question and to advance a different approach, one which I believe to be more rigorous in its attention to the biblical pattern.

Laying Hands on Women

One of the things that has a measure of bearing upon this question is the question of whether the ritual of the laying on of hands is ever performed on females in any context. This would help us to articulate just how formal or not the woman’s participation in the role of her husband is.

In discussing Genesis 2:18 in my previous post, I observed that, instead of employing the noun עזר to refer to the helper, the Targum Onkelos employs the noun סמך, which might create some sort of conceptual proximity between the helper and the laying on of hands rituals. It is probably unlikely, however, given the range of other uses of the term.

We also see hands laid on female animals in such places as Leviticus 4:27-29, 32-33, when a common person is making a sin offering. The female kid or lamb can only represent the person of the commoner: it cannot represent the priest, the ruler of the people, or the congregation as a whole, all of whom must be represented through male sacrifices. We should observe in passing that the fact that the gender of the sacrifices were stipulated in such cases, and that such of the sacrificed animals were to be female, suggests that their meaning cannot just be exhausted in a narrow understanding of Christ’s fulfilment of the sacrifices of Leviticus at Calvary. The sacrifices of Leviticus look forward to a fulfilment, not merely in Christ’s own person, but also in his body, the Church. Here we see that gender is firmly located within the logic of representation. I suspect that until we get Leviticus right on such matters, we will struggle to understand the role of women in relation to Church offices.

The Sons of Israel

Israel as a whole was represented by males, and more particularly, by sons. The story of the Exodus is in many respects a story about the priestly and representative character of sons. Israel’s sons are being cast into the river. Israel is thus being robbed of its priestly ministry, and being made subject to Pharaoh’s authority. Moses is the male child without defect. We should not miss this fact: whenever Moses’ birth is mentioned, the fact that he was a beautiful child is referred to (Exodus 2:2; Acts 7:20; Hebrews 11:23). The Bible is not wasting words cooing over Amram and Jochebed’s baby photos: as the child without blemish, and of uncommonly beautiful appearance, Moses is the eminent priestly son, the natural representative of the people. Note that Saul, David, and Solomon are all spoken of as having a remarkable and compelling appearance, which sets them apart from all others as physical specimens. These were men who would cause people to catch their breath: one glance at them was sufficient to reveal that they were no ordinary males.

As the representative of the people, the expression of their authority, and their avenger, Moses slays the Egyptian. When God appears to him in the burning bush, God declares that Israel is his firstborn son, his representative on earth (Exodus 4:22). Israel is God’s son who represents his authority on earth; the sons of Israel are the ones who represent the authority of the nation. God threatens Pharaoh’s son, the representation of his authority, if Pharaoh will not let God’s son go. The story that immediately follows in Exodus 4:24-26 is directly related to this theme, but explaining its logic would rather distract from the movement of this case (I refer you to Appendix F of James Jordan’s The Law of the Covenant for a detailed treatment).

Passover and the slaying of the firstborn sons powerfully underlines the representative role of sons. Every single firstborn male in Egypt is placed under threat (Exodus 11:4-5). Israel has to come under the covering of the blood of a male lamb without defect (12:5). In Exodus 13, YHWH claims all of the firstborn males for himself, both of man and beast. The firstborn of Israel are living sacrifices. They pass over to God, and their lives are redeemed by the offering of a ram.

We should not miss the connection to the sacrifice of Isaac here. In Genesis 22, God tests Abraham. While many believe that this episode is merely a proof of Abraham’s faith, and that having passed the test, Abraham is blessed and nothing essential changes, this reading misses crucial aspects of the picture. God claims Isaac for himself, and Abraham must sacrifice him. At the point of sacrifice God stays Abraham’s hand, and provides a ram, which is offered in Isaac’s stead. Much the same thing is taking place here as occurs in the Exodus. Isaac’s status is changed. Through the sacrifice of the ram, God claims Isaac for himself. Isaac was no longer merely Abraham’s son, but was God’s son. As such, Isaac no longer served merely as a representation of Abraham’s personal authority, but also of God’s authority. In returning Isaac to Abraham, God graciously binds the manifestation of his authority in the world to the manifestation of Abraham’s.

The firstborn sons of Israel were claimed by YHWH as his own in the Exodus (Numbers 3:13). In Numbers 3, however, the males of the Levites and their cattle are taken in the stead of the firstborn males of the rest of Israel. The Levites thus represent and minister the priestly authority of Israel as a nation. The Levites don’t have a priestly authority of their own, detached from the priestly authority that Israel possesses as a nation: they are Israel’s priestly authority. The Levites are the representation of Israel’s priestly authority, and of God’s authority among his people. They are the representation and ministers of an authority that is the shared possession of the nation as a whole, even though they are the only ones permitted to represent and minister it.

The role of sons in representation of the authority of the people is only further underlined by the requirement for male offerings, and such descriptions of them as ‘sons of the herd’ (Leviticus 1:5).

Image and Glory

In 1 Corinthians 11:7 we encounter a verse that many might find perplexing:

For a man indeed ought not to cover his head, since he is the image and glory of God; but woman is the glory of man.

I believe that careful attention to the logic of this verse is absolutely crucial to unlocking the puzzle of the difference between the female helper apostle, and the male helper apostle.

If one were reading without paying too much attention, one might fall into the trap of reading ‘man … is the image and glory of God; but woman is the image and glory of man.’ However, the text does not say that the woman is the image of the man. The woman is the glory of the man, but not his image. We will return at a later point to the question of whether women are also the images of God.

Who then is the image of the man? The image of the man is the priestly son. Eve was the glory of Adam, but it was Seth who was his image, the expression of his authority in the world: ‘And Adam lived one hundred and thirty years, and begot a son in his own likeness, after his image, and named him Seth’ (Genesis 5:3).

The blessing of the father is given to the sons who bear his image in the world. The firstborn’s blessing generally involves the laying on of hands. As the father leans upon the head of his son, he impresses his image upon him. His son then represents him and his authority in the world. The chief blessing of the right hand naturally belongs to the firstborn son, who is the chief image of the father. In Genesis 48:12-22, for example, we see Isaac giving Joseph the firstborn’s double portion (v.22), through laying his hand on both of Joseph’s sons’ heads (but reversing their birth order), thereby giving Joseph two tribal portions in Ephraim and Manasseh in contrast to the single portions received by his brothers.

As N.T. Wright and others have observed, Scripture’s use of the concept of ‘image’ should be understood as the visible representation or expression of a person’s authority and rule. The conceptual connection between image and authority is a tight one, and sheds considerable light on our current questions.

The relationship between image and sonship is clear elsewhere in Scripture, especially in references to the person of Christ. For instance, in Colossians 1:15 we read of Christ: ‘He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.’ It is the son who represents – who is the embodiment – of the authority of his father. The man’s possession of a son is his possession of authority, much as having a wife is having glory. Hebrews 1:2ff. reveals the same connection between the firstborn, image, and authority: as God’s image and firstborn Son, Christ is God’s strength and authority at work in the world.

All of this leads to an important conclusion: women cannot represent, or image, the authority of the man, as that is not the form of representation for which they were created.

The Shaliach as Image of his Master

In the previous post, I maintained that both female helper apostle and male helper apostle represented the authority of their masters. We should observe that without the helper apostle, the authority of the lead apostle would be considerably lessened: the helper apostle was the right hand of the apostle, who gave a considerably greater reach and scope to his authority. As such the helper apostle did not just point to an authority that lay elsewhere, but was a living embodiment of the authority he enacted.

Following Matt Colvin’s reading, I argued that Timothy was Paul’s helper apostle, the apostle of the Apostle Paul, his shaliach. However, the relationship that existed between Paul and Timothy needs closer attention. I observed the closeness of the relationship between them, but I did not sufficiently underline the significance of its unique form: Timothy is Paul’s son. This fact is mentioned at several points in Scripture (e.g. 1 Corinthians 4:17; 1 Timothy 1:2, 18; 2 Timothy 1:2).

Of course, Timothy wasn’t Paul’s biological son, but the relationship that Timothy bore to Paul was one of a son to his father. As such Timothy was able to act as the representation and image of Paul’s authority, and be his right arm at work in the world. This sonship relationship is essentially the same as Joshua had with Moses (by renaming him – Numbers 13:16, and leaning upon him in the firstborn’s image blessing – Deuteronomy 34:9), and Elisha had with Elijah (2 Kings 2:12 – note also that Elisha requests the firstborn’s double portion of Elijah’s spirit in verse 9, which he later receives).

The Female Helper Apostle as the Glory of her Husband

As a woman, the female helper apostle cannot be the image of her husband, as she cannot take the place of the firstborn son. However, although women do not enjoy the shaliach role of firstborn sons, they still stand in a representative role in relation to their husbands, a role that is highlighted by Paul in 1 Corinthians 11:7, and which can easily be deduced from more general attention to biblical patterns. As God’s firstborn son, Israel represents God’s authority in the world. However, as God’s bride, Israel represents his glory.

Both the firstborn son and the wife are integral to the identity of the man whom they represent. Without the firstborn son, the man lacks authority in the world: without the wife, the man lacks glory. Regarding the apostle’s wife as the representation of the glory of her apostle husband gives us a far better model for understanding her role.

As the glory of her husband, the wife does things and represents things that the firstborn son can never do or represent. While the son’s role is frequently akin to that of a servant, the place of the wife is one of exalted honour. The man has no glory that he possesses in detachment from his wife, rather the wife is the embodiment of his glory.

All of this sheds light upon the question of ordination. Women are not ordained, because ordination (the laying on of hands) is for sons, who represent their fathers’ authority. The clergy should be exclusively male for this reason. The roles played by women are not roles of servant authority entered by ordination, but roles of glorious representation, recognized by the according of honour.

The apostle’s wife is the apostle’s glory and she enjoys a position of exalted honour for that reason. No hands are laid on her in ordination, but she enjoys an exalted place alongside her husband in the life of the Church. When she gives counsel, people shut up and listen to her. She is sought for her wisdom. She is eminent among the women, not as an ordained Church officer, but as one who represents the glory of the apostle. She is held up as a model and example for imitation. She teaches and spiritually guides other women as an esteemed sharer in the apostle’s ministry. This position of honour is not merely one of reflected glory from her husband, for she is an expression of her husband’s glory.

The apostle’s wife can lead the other women, under the apostle’s authority. This leadership is not the same as the apostle’s leadership, which involves clear rights of office over the members of the Church. The apostle’s wife possesses no such rights, nor can she exercise them on behalf of her husband, as she cannot image him. However, her leadership is effected through honour, as the members of the Church set her forth as a person to emulate and follow.

Such women should be prominent in the life of the Church. To the extent that the ordained clergy seek their own glory, rather than glorifying the wider congregation, and the women within it in particular, they are failing to discharge their duty. The fact that the role of the clergy is often seen to be the one of glory within the Church is a sign that something has gone seriously wrong. Of itself the priestly ministry is inglorious, its glory is ministered to it from outside, and is a glory chiefly manifested in the exalted and prominent place of honoured faithful women within the life of the Church. Conversely, the fact that many women seek to usurp the authority of ordained firstborn son images in the Church is a sign that they are not being glorious as they ought to be.

Do Women Image God?

So far we have argued that firstborn sons are the images and authority of the man and that the wife is the glory of the man. The first role is one of ordination, the second role is one of honour. As it stands, this picture seems to have the man in the centre, relativizing both the woman and the son. However, as I claimed in my previous post, in 1 Corinthians 11:11-12, Paul proceeds to engage in an asymmetrical reversal of the poles. The picture must ultimately be one in which all poles can be seen to be essential and, from a particular perspective, central. I don’t believe that this is hard to demonstrate.

The key point that should shape our entire understanding of this is the fact that we all minister being to each other. The gifts, being, and status of one party is not held over against the others, but is ministered to them. We saw this pattern earlier when we observed that the Levites did not possess some exclusive authority private to their tribe held over against all of the other tribes. Rather, the Levites ministered a priestly authority that was the possession of Israel as a whole nation, for the sake of the whole nation.

The same pattern can be observed in the Church. The Church receives the single Gift of the Spirit on the Day of Pentecost. The Spirit is the common possession of the Church. However, the being of the Church is ministered to the Church by means of differentiated ministries (1 Corinthians 12). The gifts of one party are not held over against other parties as private possessions, but are gifts to be given. The gifts given to one party are gifts given to the whole Church through that party. More particularly, the ministering of these gifts is a re-presentation of the single Gift that the Church has already been given. When the clergy exercise priestly authority, they are not exercising an authority that is their private possession, but are exercising the authority that belongs to all in the Church, acting on our behalf as ministers.

This is the pattern that the relationship between men and women, and firstborn sons takes (undoubtedly much could be said concerning the roles of younger sons and daughters, but this is not the time). The man is the image and glory of God, expressing God’s authority and his glory. However, man by himself has meagre authority and little glory. It is through the firstborn son that the man gains his strength (on the firstborn as the representation of strength, see Genesis 49:3; Deuteronomy 21:17, Psalm 78:51) and authority. The son does more than picture an authority and strength that the father possesses as a detached individual: the son is his father’s strength and authority. Similar observations should be made of the wife: the wife is the glory of her husband, and without her the man is without glory. Both wife and son minister the being of the man to him.

However, the man does not merely have his being ministered to him, he is also the minister of being to others. The father filiates, and ‘ordains’ his son. Without the authorizing work of the father, the son cannot be his authority in the world. The son is the authority of the father, not an authority to or of himself. The man renders his wife glorious by exercising his authority on her behalf. He enables her to be a glory by taking her to himself. Without a husband, the woman can suffer reproach or dishonour (cf. Isaiah 4:1).

The relationship between the firstborn and the woman is also one of ministered being. It is in bringing forth the firstborn that the woman most powerfully ministers glory. Barrenness is regarded as a reproach (Genesis 30:23; 1 Samuel 1:6; Luke 1:25), a dishonour from which the firstborn delivers the woman. The firstborn also ministers the authority of the man on behalf of the woman. The woman, for her part, in addition to being the one through whom the firstborn comes, is the minister of the glory of the man to the firstborn.

We are all inglorious when detached from each other, yet in such asymmetric mutuality, we all enjoy great authority and glory. Hence, although they do not image God in the manner that men do, women possess the image of God, as men are God’s gift to women (or at least, so we flatter ourselves – cf. Genesis 4:1). Likewise, although men are not glorious of themselves, they nonetheless possess the glory of God, because God gave women, the glorious sex, to men.

What About the Exceptions?

What are we to say about childless men, unmarried men or women, barren women, and children without a father or a mother? From a human perspective such persons would seem to be without both authority and glory, and this is an assessment expressed and even enacted on various occasions in the Bible, most especially in the Old Testament.

In the Church our human relationships are taken up into a deeper and greater life, in which the relationships of glory and authority can be enjoyed even by those excluded from the human relationships that manifest these characteristics. In his relationship with the Church, Paul glorifies another, as a man glorifies a woman. For instance, the glory of the Ephesian church is Paul’s suffering on their behalf (Ephesians 3:13). Likewise, Paul’s glory is found in what Christ has accomplished through him in the Church: ‘For you are our glory and joy’ (1 Thessalonians 2:20). The faithful widow or women without a husband or children is granted an honoured place within the Church (1 Timothy 5). She glorifies the Church by her holy and faithful life, is rendered glorious, and is empowered as the Church ministers its authority on her behalf. The orphan is likewise adopted into the Church, and given the filial place as a son of God, who shares in the glory of his Mother the Church.

All of this makes more sense as we appreciate that being the image and glory of God as male and female must involve a participation in more fundamental relationships. The Church is the place where we are renewed in the image of God (Colossians 3:9-11). The Church is also the site where the glory of God is being manifest. As we participate in the life of the Church, we can manifest the true logic of human being and identity, where authoritative firstborn sonship (cf. Hebrews 12:23) and glorious wifehood (Ephesians 5:25-27) can be enjoyed.

The Church is only the site of the outworking of the true ontological mutuality and life of humanity by virtue of its participation in God’s own life. Within the Church we are being renewed in the image of God. The Image of God, however, is Christ (Colossians 1:15). It is through participation in Christ that this new life is enjoyed. Likewise the glorious character of the Church is nothing less than a participation in the Spirit, who is the glory of God. Once this all has been grasped, it becomes apparent that no person is held back from full realization of the ontological destiny of humanity.

The Life of the Trinity

This argument has progressed gradually, in large part to reveal the working that underlies the sort of arguments that Paul makes in 1 Corinthians 11, where the differentiated roles of men and women in worship are related to the differentiated life of the Trinity. There is a path leading from the fundamental datum of physical sexual difference and differentiated roles in worship into the very heart of Trinitarian theology. This is why careful thinking in this area is so important, and the ordination of women such a grievous error, calling into question the very ecclesial being of the churches where it is practiced.

God created humanity to reveal his image and glory. Human life in communion is expressive of the very life of the Trinity. We have spoken of the relationship between fathers and firstborn sons in Scripture. In the only begotten Son of the Father, we find the prototype for all such relationships. The Son is the perfect expression of the authority of Father. He is the one by whom the world is made, governed, upheld, and saved. The Son is the right hand of the Father.

The Spirit is the glory of the Father, the glory that the Father gives to the Son (Mark 8:38). The Spirit is also the glory of the Son, the glory that the Son renders to the Father (Thomas Weinandy has some helpful observations on the role of the Spirit in The Father’s Spirit of Sonship). Each person is the ‘medium’ or ‘gift’ of the relationship between the other two persons. The Spirit is the glory passed between Father and Son. The Son is the authority passed between Father and Spirit. The Father is the authorizing name passed between Spirit and Son. Each of these relations in turn implies the others. Although one person may appear to be rendered a pure object in each of these relationships, as the relationships are mutually implicatory in a single sharing of divine life, no such objectification occurs.

Conclusion

One of the things that should be clear from the picture above is just how closely the role of women corresponds to the role of the Spirit. Women can represent God in a peculiar manner that no others can, thereby ministering being to all others, and receiving being in return. Women do not image God in the same way that men do (as men are particularly associated with the Son), but they represent God’s glory in a manner that men cannot. This connection between women and the role of the Spirit could be articulated in great detail using biblical typology.

Seeing the closeness of the relationship here underlines just how important the ministry of women is in the Church. If we are serious Trinitarians, I believe that we are led to the strong conclusion that the role of women possesses no less dignity than that of men. Indeed the role of women is probably the primary manifestation of the glory of the Church. All of this is of seismic import for the way that we treat and regard women within our churches. We have taken no more than the smallest of steps towards working out the far-reaching implications of this.

Returning to the question that started us off, this also reveals the distinct manner in which Junia participated in the apostleship of Andronicus. It unworks certain of the confusing perceptions that might have arisen from my previous post, while providing a clearer framework within which the distinct roles of sons and wives can be recognized.

This, I hope, will be my final treatment of the subject of women’s leadership. What I trust I have achieved is a revelation of how tightly male-only ordination is woven into the very fabric of the Christian faith, having implications for our understanding of our gendered identities as revealed in Genesis 2-3, but, far more importantly, following closely from the life of God himself.

Part 1: Some Lengthy Thoughts on Women’s Leadership
Part 2: A Closer Examination of Junia, The Female Apostle

Posted in Bible, Exodus, NT, OT, Theology | 30 Comments

A Closer Examination of Junia, the Female Apostle

Posted on December 10, 2011 by Alastair Roberts

Part 1: Some Lengthy Thoughts on Women’s Leadership
Part 3: Representation and Ordination: Of Sons and Wives

Yesterday I posted on the subject of women leadership, and also posted links to some reposted posts from Matt Colvin’s old Fragmenta blog. Matt has since reposted some further old posts, a couple of which dovetail nicely into some of the points that I made in my post on women’s leadership.

Within my post I argued that there is no reason why we should be at all reticent to speak of Junia in Romans 16:7 as a female apostle. It is by far the most natural reading of the verse. Although we have no evidence of other female apostles, I believe that a better understanding of ordination and Church offices within the Bible will help us to appreciate why: a) Junia can be spoken of as a female apostle; b) why we should not be that surprised that we do not see other female apostles being mentioned; c) how this is quite consistent with women not teaching or exercising authority over men.

Deacons

Matt, taking two articles by James Jordan on eldership and maturity as his starting point, provides so me insights that help to unlock this particular subject. One of the key observations in Jordan’s approach concerns the place of deacons:

Modern Presbyterianism has invented the office of deacon. The deacons are a group of men, they say, who handle the physical side of Church life: maintaining the property, carrying out works of charity, and controlling the money. This notion is based on Acts 6, taken out of its Biblical context.

In reality, and this is pretty obvious from the Bible as a whole, a deacon is an assistant and/or apprentice elder. Joshua was Moses’ deacon; Elisha was Elijah’s deacon; Gehazi was Elisha’s deacon; Baruch was Jeremiah’s deacon. The Twelve were Jesus’ deacons, and after they became elders, they enlisted other men as their deacons.

The deacons of Acts 6 took care of physical needs under the oversight and direction of the elders, the apostles. The diaconate is not a separate office, but the training ground for the office of overseer. Elisha “poured water on the hands of Elijah” (2 Ki. 3:11). According to 1 Kings 20:21, Elisha “ministered to” Elijah. The Twelve fed the 5000 while Jesus taught them, and then cleaned up the loaves and fishes.

If the elder is the Jedi Master, the deacon is his padawan. The deacon is the assistant and the apprentice of the elder. In the case of someone like Elisha we see that Elijah is given a commission in 1 Kings 19:15-17. As part of his task, Elijah has to be anointed as the prophet in his place. Elisha becomes the padawan of Master Elijah, serving his needs and supporting his mission.

In many respects the two become a single unit, Elisha represents Elijah and participates in his mission. Elijah never personally performs the first two items on the to-do list that God gave him in 1 Kings 19:15-17. It isn’t until 2 Kings 8-9, a while after Elijah’s ascension, that these tasks are performed – by Elisha. When Elijah ascends, Elisha receives a double portion (the lot of the firstborn) of Elijah’s spirit, and continues Elijah’s mission. As Master Elijah’s padawan, Elisha doesn’t receive a distinct commission of his own, but serves as a helper, and later successor, to Elijah in the performance of his.

Taking up Jordan’s observation, Matt remarks:

…calling a man a διάκονος is rather like calling him an “assistant”: such a title ordinarily involves attachment to some other person or institution, whose ends the διάκονος is devoted to: “Is Christ a διάκονος of Sin?” (Gal. 2:17). Within the church, the natural assumption is that a deacon is an assistant to an elder, which fits with the pattern Jordan identifies with the prophets and their pupils. We might also note that the qualifications for the two offices (given in the pastoral epistles) are virtually identical, for this very reason.

The point that the deacon is one who is closely attached to another person or institution is crucial for our purposes here. The diaconate is not a self-standing office, but an office that receives its rationale and character from the person or institution with which it is aligned and which it serves and helps.

Matt relates this to Jewish practice:

But first, let me reiterate the historical background. The Jews of Jesus’ day had an institution in which the laying on of hands (semikah) could effect the authorization of a new Rabbi by an existing one. The act was conceptualized according to the OT pattern established by Moses, who laid his hands on Joshua. Because the verb samakh denotes a forceful leaning, not a mere laying, the metaphor is that of pressing one’s personality and power into one’s emissary. The Rabbis state that (y. Meg. 74a) “a man’s shaliach is as if he were the man himself” – so that Eliezer of Damascus had full authority to ask Rebekah’s hand for Isaac, without her parents needing to worry that Abraham might rescind the offer.

He also, contra Jordan – on this point I side with Matt – argues that those traditionally understood to be deacons in Acts 6 are not deacons, but elders, representing the people, rather than the apostles. The apostles do not lay hands on the Seven, but the people. The Seven do the work of the people, as the representatives of the people, they do not represent and directly serve the apostles in their mission. From that time onwards, the book of Acts speaks of the apostles and the elders.

The Apostolic Shaliach

In his second post, Matt examines the case of Timothy, questioning whether he was the bishop of Ephesus, during the period of Paul’s ministry, as tradition has suggested. He argues that Timothy’s ministry does not seem to have been the geographically bounded ministry of a regular pastor. Rather, Timothy is Paul’s ‘shaliach’, the one who personally represents Paul where Paul himself cannot be. As such, Timothy participates in the exercise of Paul’s apostolic ministry. He is the co-author of epistles (2 Corinthians 1:1; Philippians 1:1; Colossians 1:1; 1 Thessalonians 1:1; 2 Thessalonians 1:1; Philemon 1:1), Paul’s personal emissary (Acts 19:22; 1 Timothy 1:3), and the one who served Paul, so that Paul could give himself to his primary task of preaching without any distraction (cf. Acts 18:1-5).

Here we see that Timothy participated directly in Paul’s exercise of his apostolic power. Paul and Timothy are a pair, bound together in a single apostolic mission. On occasions the distinction between them is made plain – only Paul is the apostle proper – while on others their alignment is stressed – Timothy is a co-worker, helper, and sharer in Paul’s calling. Relative to the churches to which they were ministering Timothy was to be treated as a bearer of Paul’s own authority. However, relative to Paul, Timothy was a subordinate, without an independent commission of his own, but rather a share in Paul’s.

The relationship between Paul and Timothy is exceptional close, and Paul speaks of Timothy as his son. This language is not merely that of emotional closeness, but of representation: the son represents the father, his authority, presence, and interests. It also points to a relationship similar to that which pertained between Old Testament leaders and prophets and their shaliachs. In Numbers 13:16 we see that Joshua’s name was given to him by Moses, who also lays his hands on Joshua in Deuteronomy 34:9. A similar relationship exists between Elijah and Elisha: Elisha receives a ‘double portion’ of Elijah’s spirit, the inheritance appropriate to the firstborn (Deuteronomy 21:17), and, as Elijah is taken into heaven, Elisha addresses him as his ‘father’ (2 Kings 2).

Matt writes:

Timothy is sent. This is the hallmark of an apostle or shaliach — indeed, both nouns have their roots in the respective verbs “to send” (Hebrew shalah and Greek ἀποστέλλω). Phil. 2:20: “I trust in the Lord Jesus to send Τimothy to you shortly, that I also may be encouraged when I know your state.” Paul sends Timothy to the Corinthians in 1 Cor. 16:10, stating that he is to do the same job as Paul himself: “If Timothy comes, see that he may be with you without fear; for he does the work of the Lord, as I also do . Therefore let no one despise him.” Timothy’s work is the same as Paul’s. On several other occasions, Paul mentions that Timothy is doing “the work of the Lord” or is a “fellow-worker with me” or a “fellow-worker with God.” I would suggest that these terms should be taken as vivid expressions of the shaliach role, first of Paul, as an apostle sent by God or Christ to do Christ’s work, and then by Timothy, who, sent by Paul as Paul’s own shaliach, is likewise engaged in the same work as his master, and is thus, as it were, a second-order shaliach of Christ. (My wife wisecracks: “Yeah, he [sc. Christ] is so important that his secretary has a secretary!”) He is referred to by Paul as “my fellow worker” in Rom. 16:21. 1 Tim. 4:6 refers to Timothy as a διάκονος Χριστοῦ Ἰησοῦ, a servant of Christ Jesus. It is unclear whether this is a more general appellation, or refers to his role as the delegate of Christ’s delegate. Nonetheless, the point is clear: Timothy is Paul’s plenipotentiary emissary, not a local pastor. He stands on one side with Paul as Christ’s representative, not on the other side with the Seven and other elders as the Church’s representative.

He proceeds to observe:

That Timothy is a virtual copy of Paul is underlined by 1 Cor. 4:16-17: “I urge you, imitate me. For this reason I have sent Timothy to you, who is my beloved and faithful son in the Lord who will remind you of my ways in Christ, as I teach everywhere in every church.”

The charge to imitate Paul is accompanied by the sending of Timothy towards the fulfilment of this end, as the son is the pre-eminent imitator and representation of the father. As a participant in his father’s ministry, and Paul’s right hand man, Timothy had immense authority to wield, even being given the commission to choose and appoint church officers as Paul’s representative. As the apostolic ministry was temporary, upon Paul’s death, Timothy would cease to be the Apostle’s apostle and would presumably have become a bishop.

Woman as Deaconess in Genesis 2-3

How does this relate to the question of Junia, with which we started? To address this question we should return to Genesis 2. In Genesis 2, God creates man and woman. However, the order of events here is significant. God creates the man first, and gives him the task of guarding and keeping the garden (v.15). He gives him the commandment concerning the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. This is the law that Adam has the duty to uphold (v.16-17).

The Garden is the prototypical sanctuary, the place of worship. The parallels are numerous. As in the temple of Ezekiel, the Garden is the source of a river that waters the earth (Genesis 2:10; Ezekiel 47). Like the Holy of Holies, the entrance to the Garden comes to be guarded by cherubim (Genesis 3:24; Exodus 26:1). As in the sanctuary, the garden is the site of the sacramental food, the forbidden food of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, and the life-giving fruit of the Tree of Life. Adam was given the task of guarding and keeping. These tasks correspond to the task of the priests (the lexical parallels are worth observing in this context), who had to do the service of the tabernacle and temple, tending and maintaining the Table of the Presence, the Golden Lampstand, and the Altar, and also had to guard the holy place and things from trespass.

After Adam has been created and commissioned, God declares Adam’s need for a helper in his ministry in the garden-sanctuary (the use of the noun סמך to refer to the ‘helper’ in the Targum Onkelos is very interesting for our purposes, given its relationship to the verb used for the laying/leaning on of hands [e.g. Deuteronomy 34:9]). Eve is created and then brought to Adam to be his helper. The attentive reader may observe a parallel between the way that the Levites are brought to Aaron to minister to him in Numbers 3:5-7 and help him to fulfil his commission.

The pattern of Genesis 2 is thus that of the divinely commissioned priest in the sanctuary, who has a liturgical helper brought to him, in order to help him to fulfil his commission. The role of the liturgical helper is not an autonomous office, but is a participation in the ministry of the commissioned priest, under his leadership. As the priest, the man is the one who ultimately is accountable for the fulfilling of the charge, not the liturgical helper. When the task isn’t achieved, it is the priest who will be called to account. Adam is the priest and Eve is his deaconess.

The Fall is a failure in the sanctuary. Adam did not guard the holy things from trespass. He stands by while his liturgical helper took the lead, under the instigation of the serpent, and then blames her when it is done. He does not teach the law as a priest should do. The law was not delivered to Eve, but to Adam alone, and it was his duty to play the priestly role of giving authoritative teaching to Eve in regard to the holy things. Eve, being misled by the serpent, and seeing that Adam is saying nothing, is confused. She is going by hearsay. She has not heard the law for herself, and must rely on the word of others. As Adam fails to oppose the false teaching of the serpent, Eve is deceived and takes of the forbidden fruit. She takes the liturgical lead in the distribution of the holy food, and Adam goes along with it. Integral to Adam’s sin was that he listened to the voice of his wife and followed her lead, rather than upholding the law and doing his duty as a priest (Genesis 3:17).

The most basic difference between male and female prior to the Fall in the story of Genesis 2-3 is not a biological one. Procreation is not mentioned in Genesis 2-3 until after Adam and Eve have sinned. The fundamental difference between male and female in the fundamental text for the biblical understanding of male and female is the difference between Adam as the commissioned priest, and Eve as his deaconess. An understanding of this is fairly important for understanding the logic of what comes next in the account of the Fall itself.

Once this has been grasped, we will see that the ordination of women strikes at the very heart of the biblical teaching about male and female. At the heart of the human task in Genesis 2-3 is not procreation, but the running of the sanctuary – the task of worship. To ordain woman as leaders over men in worship is to get the first lesson about the sexes wrong, and in effect to repeat the sin of the Fall.

Paul’s Use of Genesis 2-3

Unlike far too many Christians today, the early Church knew their Old Testament. Hence, Paul could point to the pattern of Genesis 2-3 and the hearers and readers of his epistles would grasp the logic, logic that would have been blindingly obvious to anyone familiar with the Old Testament. When dealing with the differing roles of men and women within the life of the Church, Genesis 2-3 is Paul’s first port of call. In 1 Corinthians 11:3-9, he writes:

But I want you to know that the head of every man is Christ, the head of woman is man, and the head of Christ is God. Every man praying or prophesying, having his head covered, dishonors his head. But every woman who prays or prophesies with her head uncovered dishonors her head, for that is one and the same as if her head were shaved. For if a woman is not covered, let her also be shorn. But if it is shameful for a woman to be shorn or shaved, let her be covered. For a man indeed ought not to cover his head, since he is the image and glory of God; but woman is the glory of man. For man is not from woman, but woman from man. Nor was man created for the woman, but woman for the man.

Paul’s point is fairly plain: it is not right for a deacon to act the part of the priest. The role of the deacon is defined relative to that of the priest. The woman was created as the minister to and co-worker for the man, helping him in the fulfilment of his charge. While the man is defined relative to God, who commissioned him, the woman is defined relative to the man, as whose helper she was created, and who named her (Genesis 2:23, much as Moses named Joshua in Numbers 13:16). Man is the head of the woman, as the deacon is under the headship of the elder.

All of this means that a distinction needs to be made between the way that men and women dress and act in worship (Matt discusses Paul’s teaching regarding headcoverings here). As in the case of the apostle and his serving apostle, the serving apostle can represent the apostolic authority in his actions, as he participates in the ministry of the one he is deacon to. However, only the lead apostle can image the apostolic authority. This is the logic that Paul applies to male and female here. Only the man images the authority of the divine commission in relation to the primary worship task of humanity; the woman participates and can represent this authority, but she cannot be treated as though she possessed the divine commission in the manner that the man can.

This is related to the Trinity. The Son is sent by the Father, and is the image and representation of his authority. This should alert us to the fact that this is not all that should be said about the role of men and women: Peter Leithart makes some very helpful observations on this front. We should also notice that Paul immediately goes on to make counterbalancing statements in verses 11-12:

Nevertheless, neither is man independent of woman, nor woman independent of man, in the Lord. For as woman came from man, even so man also comes through woman; but all things are from God.

Paul’s point here in relation to the role of men and women is twofold. First, men and women cannot be rendered independent. The relationship between priest and deacon, with the priest as the commissioned one and the deacon as the one helping the priest to fulfil his commission might suggest that the priest could just dispense with his deacon, should he so choose. Paul’s claim is that cannot be the case: the woman is essential for the man. Second, even though there is a clear differentiation between male and female that excludes women priesthood, for instance, there is also a clear yet asymmetrical reversibility in the relationship between them, whereby the woman takes the priority over the man in certain respects. I would once again direct you to Leithart’s insightful remarks on this matter, remarks that cut to the heart of the problem with many complementarian views in this area.

Paul once again refers to the logic of Genesis 2-3 in 1 Timothy 2:11-15, in a part of the text that seldom receives the close attention that it deserves:

Let a woman learn in silence with all submission. And I do not permit a woman to teach or to have authority over a man, but to be in silence. For Adam was formed first, then Eve. And Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived, fell into transgression. Nevertheless she will be saved in childbearing if they continue in faith, love, and holiness, with self-control.

Once we appreciate the biblical logic underlying Paul’s position, we will begin to see that egalitarian arguments that focus on quibbling over the fine grammatical details of verses 11-12 are really missing the powerhouse of Paul’s argument, which is found in verses 13-14. The importance of Genesis 2-3 in Paul’s argument is further underlined by the manner in which he draws women into the story of Genesis 3, where the curse is attended by a promise of salvation in the context of childbearing (see Tim Gallant’s discussion of this verse here). Genesis 2-3 is absolutely paradigmatic for Paul’s thinking on such matters.

It might be worth drawing a connection between our earlier discussion of the role of Timothy and the teaching of 1 Timothy 2. If, as we have argued above, Timothy is not just a pastor in a particular geographical region, but is the personal emissary of Paul himself, what we see in the book of Timothy are not just some pointers on how a local pastor and his congregation can raise their game, or correctives to some local abuses, but something of the fundamental logic and pattern of church life, the pattern according to which churches must be founded. Paul’s authority is vested in Timothy and it is crucial that Timothy gets these things right and knows the reasons why he is doing what he is doing. You can’t rip this logic out of the Bible without gutting the whole thing.

Junia as Apostle

By means of this long discussion of Genesis 2-3, we finally find ourselves back with Junia. The key point that we have observed is that the man is the priest, and the woman is his deaconess. In contrast to deacons, who were sharers in ministry, helpers, and apprentices, the deaconess is not an apprentice to the priestly role. The woman does not become a man. However, Jordan suggests that we need to recognize the role of the ‘elderess’ here and here. Within the church there is a crucial ministry that older women can exercise in relation to younger women, a ministry that, while under the authority of the leading man, can parallel his role (e.g. Titus 2:2-6 – Titus teaches the younger men, the elder women teach the younger women).

As we have seen, the deacon/ess was intimately identified with the mission of the one that they served. As a deaconess, in many situations the wife can represent and act with her husband’s authority in his absence, much as Timothy could represent Paul’s authority in the places to which he was sent. The deacon is not able to do everything that the one that he serves can: there are some tasks that are only proper to the leader in such a relationship. For instance, Aaron couldn’t get a serving Levite to perform his liturgical duties for him, as it was his duty to represent and image God’s authority in that activity, and the serving Levite was not able to image God’s authority in the manner that Aaron could.

My argument is that Junia was a helping apostle to her husband, Andronicus’s apostle, representing his authority in particular situations. Andronicus and Junia would have come as a unit, just like Elijah and Elisha, Moses and Joshua, or Paul and Timothy. Just as Timothy could share in Paul’s apostolic ministry and act as an extension of Paul’s own ministry as his right hand man, even putting his name to epistles with Paul, so Junia helped Andronicus in the performance of his apostolic task.

Junia’s role would not merely have been one of being Andronicus domestic help so that Andronicus could be involved in full time ministry. She would have personally performed acts by which Andronicus discharged his duty as an apostle. While she could not play the role of imaging God’s authority, and taking the lead in worship, she was able to represent and minister Andronicus’ apostolic authority in other respects, most notably in teaching, overseeing, and evangelizing women. When she performed such tasks she was doing the work of an apostle, and she would be associated in the very closest of ways with the role of the apostle, even to the extent of being rightfully termed an apostle of types herself. She was an apostle’s apostle, or a helper apostle. She wasn’t merely externally affiliated with an apostle, but participated in and personally enacted his authority and discharged his ministry in certain contexts. Given how integral she was to Andronicus’s discharging of his apostolic ministry, it was perfectly natural for Paul to say that Andronicus and Junia were of note among the apostles, no less than it would have been for Peter to make the same statement of Paul and Timothy.

This may seem incredibly speculative, and to an extent all claims about Junia must remain speculative. However, we are not without supporting evidence for this understanding. In 1 Corinthians 9:5, Paul writes (Young’s Literal Translation):

have we not authority a sister – a wife – to lead about, as also the other apostles, and the brethren of the Lord, and Cephas?

Here Paul speaks of the apostles (and his mention of Barnabas in the context suggests that he is not merely referring to the narrower circle of the Twelve) as if they were exclusively male (οι λοιποι αποστολοι). This fits well with our picture: only males were apostles proper. The men led about their wives as co-workers. This wasn’t an egalitarian form of apostolic ministry, but one in which the husband took the lead. However, nor was it one in which the wife was merely the drudge of her husband, but rather one in which she participated as a fellow-worker in his ministry.

The wives of the apostles who travelled with them would, like other apostolic helpers, have ministered to their material needs, as Timothy enabled Paul to take a break from tent-making to give himself wholly to preaching (as Acts 18:1-5 suggests). However, they would also have ministered with them and, more importantly, in their names. Andronicus and Junia would be a husband-wife apostolic team, each discharging certain parts of Andronicus’s apostolic duty.

Writing at the beginning of the third century, Clement of Alexandria (Stromata 3.53.3) writes:

But the apostles in conformity with their ministry concentrated on undistracted preaching, and took their wives around as Christian sisters rather than spouses, to be their fellow-ministers in relation to housewives, through whom the Lord’s teaching penetrated into the women’s quarters without scandal.

Putting to one side Clement’s suggestion concerning the celibacy of the apostles, we find support here for a picture in which many threads are brought together. For Clement, the apostles’ wives were genuinely sharers in their ministry and not merely support staff. Their work was focused upon housewives, fulfilling the apostolic commission delivered to their husbands in that particular context.

The question at the heart of the women’s ordination debate is that of whether women are permitted to teach and exercise authority over men. A female apostle is commonly assumed, by persons on both sides of this debate, to imply a figure who does exercise such authority (although there have been some who have praised Junia as a women, while giving no ground to this supposed implication – Calvin and Chrysostom being examples here).

What our lengthy discussion has provided us with is a clear biblical framework within which a form of female apostleship, or at the very least, participation in the discharging of apostolic ministry, can be articulated. By virtue of a firmly established, clear, and repeatedly stated biblical logic this female apostleship can be seen to exclude the exercise of leadership over men. This approach to female apostleship provides a better account for why apostleship seems to be treated as if it were exclusive to men in certain contexts, and why Junia is the only female apostle mentioned. It removes any tension between Romans 16:7 and the biblical teaching concerning the leadership of men in the context of worship, while permitting us to maintain the most natural reading of Romans 16:7.

Implications for Complementarians

Before concluding, however, it is important that we recognize that this reading, if it is correct, presents a challenge not merely to egalitarians, but also to most complementarians. I have argued above for the possibility of a deep participation of a wife in the authority and enacting of her husband’s ministry, as his personal representative. Although the wife cannot exercise teaching authority over men in the context of worship (although there is no reason whatsoever why she can’t instruct men in an informal context), she can often represent the authority of her husband in relation to others. When ministering to women, the apostles’ wives were not merely undertaking their own personal ministries, but were exercising apostolic authority on behalf of their husbands in that context. I believe that the implications of this for our churches are worth reflecting upon.

How far this represented authority extends may not be immediately clear, but it should be explored. For instance, in the Exodus Moses led out the people, but Aaron and Miriam were his right and left hands (cf. Micah 6:4), in a similar manner as some have regarded the relationship between the Father and the Son and Spirit. Miriam’s role seems to have extended to the liturgical realm, as she led the women in worship (Exodus 15:20-21). While the overall leadership role belongs to the man, there are also women leaders in the Church under their authority. I see no reason why male lead priesthood need rule out elderesses leading the women in their worship and service under and as a representation of the priests’ authority. In fact, I see good reasons why this is something that ought to be encouraged, not least as it would highlight both the distinction between the sexes in the task of worship, and their full participation within it.

Part 1: Some Lengthy Thoughts on Women’s Leadership
Part 3: Representation and Ordination: Of Sons and Wives

Posted in Bible, Theology | 38 Comments

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