Theology for the Masses

A few months ago I wrote a post charging myself with being Too Skeptical for the Holy Spirit. I lamented, really, the fact that my Pneumatological Hermeneutic of Suspicion is always in over-drive. A few weeks later I wrote a post delineating those Christian beliefs I considered Dogma, Doctrine, Opinion or Heresy. My friend Bryne pointed out that my Dogmas (those things I considered essential to the Christian faith) were overwhelmingly Christological. I realized, in frustration with myself, I had very little to say about the Holy Spirit.

A Hermeneutic of Suspicion is not entirely responsible for this. My tradition (Evangelical/Southern Baptist) rarely touches on the 3^rd person of the Trinity. It’s hard to develop a thoughtful theology when there’s no consistency within the community’s rhetoric.

Our communal avoidance of the Spirit is borne out of at least two factors: 1. we are afraid allowing the Spirit to have control will turn us into Pentecostals,[1] and 2. our view of the Bible restricts our Pneumatological experiences.

Let me explain the second point.

I’ve always loved the authoritative emphasis Evangelicalism places on the Bible. While in certain respects I have no problem with this, I also feel it has led to an unfortunate dichotomy between the Scripture and experience; a dichotomy which is, itself, not scriptural.

John Stott argues in his discussion on the Holy Spirit, “God’s purpose for our lives is to be found in Scripture and not in experience.”[2] Stott argues the Holy Bible, above our experiences of the Holy Spirit, should direct our Christian lives. He says this primarily because he distrusts experience, not because he distrusts the Holy Spirit. The Bible must be the medium of the Holy Spirit.

But here’s the fundamental flaw: All our experiences of the Spirit, including the illumination given by the Spirit to understand the Bible, are still experiences. As Ruether says, “Human experience is both the starting point and ending point of the circle of interpretation.”[3] There’s nothing outside of experience (or the text!). This distrust of experience is an epistemological left over from the Enlightenment, not from a biblical worldview.

The problem with appealing only the Scriptures, and avoiding experience, is not only that everything is an experience, but the Bible only Speaks of experiencing the Spirit. Experience is how the biblical authors knew the Spirit. They didn’t have a Bible on which to rely.

The Luke-Acts narratives, for example, spill over with experiences of the Spirit’s outpouring. Furthermore, Paul appeals to his audience, not to only search the Scriptures (the Old Testament) for their awareness of the Spirit, but to look within their own communal experiences for evidence of the Spirit’s work:

What, don’t you know that your bodies are the temple of the Holy Spirit?

Or

If there is any consolation in Christ, any comfort from His love, any fellowship of the Spirit, then make my joy complete…

Indeed, some of Paul’s statements only make sense with the assumption that his churches experience the Spirit: Did you receive the Spirit by works of Torah or by believing what you heard? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now trying to gain perfection by the flesh? (Gal. 3:2-3). His question only works because of the experiential quality of their reception of the Spirit.[4]

Paul assumes his audience will acknowledge, from experience, the Spirit’s work among them. Paul is no Enlightenment scholar suspicious of experiencing the Spirit. He see’s the Spirit at work in his churches, in his mission, and in his life. This is no subjective reality to Paul: don’t you know!

By placing the Bible above the Holy Spirit, we’ve in essence claimed the Bible is objective and public knowledge and the Spirit’s activities are subjective and private. In this, we’ve not only violated our Scriptural foundation, but we’ve denied the 3^rd person of the Trinity out of a preconceived, prefabricated, position of suspicion. For all our arguments about the Historical Jesus, maybe we need to reexamine the ways we’ve abandoned the Historical Spirit.

Part of the churches New Covenant is that the Spirit of God will personally abide with the people of God. This is not an abstract doctrine waiting to be delineated; it is an experience – an experience of a person. When the church gathers, God is present in person.[5] Until we regain this personal, relational, experiential aspect of the Spirit, our churches will continue subject themselves to Enlightenment philosophy instead of the biblical worldview we claim we posses.

The person of the Holy Spirit, not the Bible, is the down-payment of God’s eschatological promises (Eph. 1:14). The Spirit in our midst reminds us that God has already purchased his church and the victory is already won. Christians ought to be the most hopeful of all people for we have the Spirit in our midst reminding us that God has already defeated sin and death. By our failure to experience the Spirit in our midst, we are robbed of that personal assurance.

In the end, this is what I wanted to communicate:

1. Everything is an experience. You cannot avoid experience in your theological, biblical or, especially, your pneumatological reflection.
2. Our fear of experience not only betrays an Enlightenment epistemology as opposed to a Biblical one, but straight-jackets the Holy Spirit – indeed, probably even grieves the Spirit.
3. Paul’s assumption is that the Spirit is experienced by his churches. In contrast to Paul’s churches, I doubt many evangelicals could say, “Yes, Paul, we know from experience that we have fellowship with the Spirit; we know from experience that we are the temple of the Holy Spirit. This is a major flaw in not only our Pneumatology but also our Ecclesiology.

Their women exchanged natural intercourse for unnatural (παρα φύσιν), and in the same way also the men, giving up natural intercourse with women, were consumed with passion for one another. Men committed shameless acts with men and received in their own persons the due penalty for their error. Romans 1:26-27

Perhaps no two verses have played a larger role in modern Christian discourse over sex and (homo)sexuality than Romans 1:26-27. Certainly, with the recent events in California, many are certainly turning to these verses for support of their angered positions…while others read them with disdain. I come to them now asking what role these verses really should play in our modern Christian constructions of what constitutes “proper” sex and sexuality (according to nature?). To begin, I’ll take a peak into the world of Paul…to see what (homo)sex(uality) meant for his contemporaries…to see how Paul’s words would work within antiquity’s discourse over such things. As it turns out, sex(uality) in antiquity was a performance that reflected and reinforced social hierarchy, which has startling (potential) ramifications for our reading of Romans 1:26-27.

To begin, many studies have shown that Greco-Roman conceptions of sex(uality) are quite different from our own. As Stephen Moore states, “the ‘logics of sexuality’ that underpin Romans 1.26-27, on the one hand, and the modern logics or sexuality, on the other, are so drastically different as to preclude any paraphrase of this passage that would attempt to assimilate it to the modern concept of homosexuality.” [1]

Greco-Roman notions of sex(uality) did not run strictly along the male/female dichotomy as many see it today.** While such a divide was strong, when it came to sex(uality), that line was quite permeable. Much more defined is the division between “active” and “passive,” between “hard” and “soft,” between “penetrator” and “penetrated,” and most importantly: between “superior” and “inferior.” While men were always the proper actors of the former categories…not all men could perform those roles. Those of the former categories are “honored,” while those of the latter categories are “shamed.” Here is where “sex” and “gender” become very different things in antiquity, and here is where we see their stark difference from modern times.

In antiquity, not all males were men: youths, slaves, eunuchs, and “sexually passive” males were something else. The highest status one could have was that of a free adult male (esp. rulers, magistrates, heads of elite households, patrons, etc.), everything/one else was considered “unmen” or at least “not fully men,” something less (women, youths, slaves, ‘effeminate’ males, eunuchs, ‘barbarians,’ etc.).

These lines of demarcation brought forth notions of “proper” behavior…behavior that was “according to nature.” While ancient writers often made appeals to “nature” for proper sexual behavior…they were really appealing to the reinforcement of their society’s hierarchical structures. Case in Point: Dio Chrysostom (2^nd c. CE) castigates “the man who is never satiated,” who through repeated sexual indulgences ultimately seduces young men of good families who are destined to hold public office. Dio deems this most offensive deed as “against nature” (Greek: παρα φύσιν) (Oration 7.151). For Dio, this crime “against nature,” is actually the treating of the city’s future leaders as if they were common slaves. It is a crime against class, against social hierarchy, for the young man is dishonored. He is dishonored not because he is damaged goods for his future marriage, but for his future standing in society. The crime here is treating upcoming “men” as “unmen,” making those who should be “active” actors into “passive” actors. Such deeds damage the integrity of the Greco-Roman social hierarchy, and are thus deemed “unnatural.”

Furthering these notions is the Oneirokritika of Artemidoros of Daldis (2^nd c. CE), an itinerant dream analyst who interacted with much more “common” people. It reflects relatively general understandings accepted by the public (free males that is) at large, and is called by some “a kind of ancient Kinsey report.”

The Oneirokritika separates sexual acts into different categories, most important of which are those that are “according to nature” (κατα φύσιν) and those “against nature” (παρα φύσιν). Intercourse “according to nature” is sex with a social inferior, which includes women, prostitutes, and slaves. The prostitutes and slaves can be male so long as they are the passive partner, for “to be penetrated by one’s house slave is not good” (1.78). This is not because of the sexual act itself, or even because of the slave’s maleness…the problem is that a social inferior is represented as a sexual superior.

Intercourse “against nature” in the Oneirokritika encompasses many activities, including (but not limited to) the penetration of a woman by another woman, bestiality, and necrophilia. Since sodomy of prostitutes/slaves/boys was ok, the dividing line of “according to/against nature” certainly is not reproductive potential. Rather, unnatural acts either do not reproduce social hierarchy or run counter to it. Bestiality and necrophilia are not “perversions” in the modern sense, but rather are outside conventional fields of social signification. If a man gains advantage over a sheep or a dead body…so what? Perhaps most telling is the prohibition of women “penetrating” other women. This is not simply “lesbian sex” in the modern notion, but rather a woman (a social inferior) performing the work of a man (a social superior). “Let not women imitate the sexual role of men” warns the Hellenistic Jewish author known as Pseudo-Phocylides (192).

Sex “according to nature” thus becomes a game of active/passive, penetrator/penetrated, and most importantly: social superior/social inferior. The act of penetration “reproduced” the societal notions of honor and shame, of status and class. To be the penetrator was to be the social/sexual superior (adult free males in all cases), and to be penetrated was to be the social/sexual inferior (women, prostitutes, boys, slaves, etc.). Any sexual activity that violated this social hierarchy could thus be categorized as “against nature.

So What?
What does this mean for Romans 1:26-27? Well, being that we can never truly lock down “authorial intent,” we can see how one’s language would fit into the discourses of their day. Given the very specific language of Paul, especially in comparison with his near contemporaries (esp. παρα φύσιν)…it seems that Romans 1:26-27 reflects/participates in particular notions of superior vs. inferior, of penetrator vs. penetrated. The “sexual logic” of Romans 1:26-27 thus comes from a societal hierarchy entirely different from our own. With this in mind, Stephen Moore offers an “amplified” version of these verses (based on the RSV with his own notes in parentheses):

Their women exchanged natural relations (of domination versus submission, designed to display social hierarchy, they themselves assuming the inferior position by accepting male penetration) for unnatural relations (in which no display of domination or submission occurred and consequently no social hierarchy was exhibited, because no penile penetration took place), and the men likewise gave up natural relations with women (the male assuming the dominant position, penetrating the woman and thereby exhibiting and reaffirming his social superiority over her) and were consumed with passion for one another, men committing shameless acts with men (in which one partner would necessarily end up the loser in the zero-sum game of honor versus shame, passively accepting penetration and thus defeat at the hands of another). [2]

So, what does all of this mean? It means that Paul’s condemnation of these acts comes from a cultural logic that simply does not work for us. Sex and sexuality in Paul’s world was based on a very particular social hierarchy (free adult males “on top” with women, slaves, boys, etc. below). The question becomes, if we have a very different notion of society and what sex(uality) represents…how do we read Paul? Can we simply adopt his prohibitions wholeheartedly, despite the fact that the Greco-Roman societal/sexual logic behind them contradicts and offends our own? Should we, as Christians, uncritically conform ourselves to a 1^st c. CE worldview? What role, if any, should verses such as this play in our own formations of proper sex(uality)?

1. “the notion of homosexuality is plainly inadequate as a means of referring to an experience, forms of valuation, and a system of categorization so different from ours. The Greeks did not see love for one’s own sex and loves for the other sex as opposite, as two exclusive choices, two radically different types of behavior. The dividing lines did not follow that kind of boundary.” – Michel Foucault. The Use of Pleasure. [↩]
2. From Moore’s article “Que(e)rying Paul: Preliminary Questions” in: Auguries: The Sheffield Jubilee Volume. Much of the references and the argumentation here comes from this article (in an admittedly abbreviated form), which is an excellent read and comes highly recommended. Moore gives far more examples and presents them in a much more eloquent way than I ever could. [↩]

During the conception years of Christianity religion and the state intertwined quite nicely. In fact, no sharp dichotomy necessarily existed, especially when one considers the influence of the Imperial Cults which demanded Roman citizens worship the Emperor. There was no ’secular’ vs. ’sacred.’

In the fullness of time Christianity grew up in this theo-political culture. And the message of Christianity was inherently political…though not as one might expect.

Rome employed terminology such as ‘salvation’ and ‘peace’ to point to the ideological and governmental sovereignty of their Empire. Only Rome, they espoused, could provide true salvation and peace. Furthermore, they backed up these claims with crucifying those who dared to question the sovereignty of the Empire. The cross was a Roman tool designed to humiliate a terrorist so that others would not wish to follow in his steps. In an honor and shame culture, this technique was quite effective.

When Christianity appears on the scene not only does it steal the Roman terms ‘salvation’ and ‘peace’ and invest them with new meaning, but it also takes Rome’s greatest threat, crucifixion, and infuses it with honor and glory, not shame and embarrassment.

Thus, Christianity, in subverting Rome’s political terminology, was political. Though it was not politically involved. Christians did not seek to change Roman culture through the political machine…indeed, they couldn’t. But they did believe their message was political and that it had larger cultural influence.

Since Constantine we live in a world where Christians have much more political sway. We’ve obtained ‘official’ religion status [1] , and gained the comfortable assumption that political involvement is the surest way to influence culture. This assumption has blinded us to other creative alternatives which do not seek the power of the state to prop up the gospel and influence culture. Again, preaching the gospel is political – as a prophetic voice to the political realm. But Christ himself shied from seeking state power.

Matthew’s gospel is especially clear about this: From the beginning it is the State (Herod) who tries to kill him. In the end the State (Pontius Pilate) does kill him. The State, in the Matthean narrative, is a false power. It claims sovereignty, but ultimately will crumble as any other human institution. Jesus spends almost the entire gospel outside of Jerusalem (the theo-political center of his world), probably in protest of the political power. In fact, it is not until he gets crucified that Jesus spends any time in Jerusalem.

Furthermore, in Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount, being ‘Salt’ is not about preserving the culture of the Empire or the Empire’s way of life. Christ never recommends cultural preservation – it’s not what Christianity is about. The context is about a radical community which, through the enactment of the beatitudes, lives a distinctive life which, like Salt, has certain qualities (meekness, peaceable, mourning). Without these qualities Salt is worthless – and so is Christianity. A community that does not live these qualities will be thrown out as useless

From the Matthean perspective Rome/politics cannot provide salvation for the world, for politics simply play into the hands of the powerful. For Matthew it is a distinctive Christian community that will have the most significant influence on Roman culture; a community associated with the poor and marginalized not the powerful of the State. The State cannot offer salvation and peace, these things belong to the church who exemplifies these quatlities as they seek to live out Christ’s example and God’s will.

The radical Christian community I speak of does not rely on the promises of the State to find empowerment. It relies on the crucified messiah who dared to stand against the values of the State and was killed for it. But without that death at the hands of the Empire, the temporal nature of the Empire’s salvation could not have been seen and the eternal nature of God’s salvation could not have been won. We’re not trying to create a Christian state; we’re not trying to preserve or win back a Christian state. We’re trying to demonstrate the ultimate falleness of all human attempts at salvation and peace outside of a crucified deity. No nation-state (Christian or otherwise) will ever be able to see this clearly.

1. Even in America where no ‘official’ religion is recognized, Christianity has been, and still is, the unofficial, official religion. [↩]