Golden Calf

A “sculpture” by Damien Hirst.

From artdaily.org:

Sotheby’s London will present Beautiful Inside My Head Forever, a major auction of new works by Damien Hirst, on 15 and 16 September 2008. …

The centrepiece of the auction, The Golden Calf, is a monumental new sculpture: a bull in formaldehyde, whose head is crowned by a solid gold disc and whose hooves and horns are cast in 18- carat solid gold. Encased in a gold-plated stainless steel and glass box, it measures 215.4 by 320 by 137.2 cm. This exceptional work, which unites the artist’s interests in science, religion, beauty and death, is estimated to realise £8-12 million.

Where the women aren’t, part 2

(adapted from a post at [A]mazed and [Be]mused)

I’ve posted on the topic of complementarianism once before. Here I make a different sort of argument, but to the same end:  i.e., defending egalitarianism on the basis of the biblical texts.

The complementarian position

So-called “complementarianism” attempts to put a positive label on the politically-incorrect notion of male headship:  i.e., that women are always to be under male authority. Scriptures like 1Ti. 2:11-13 are regarded as determinative of church practice:

A woman should learn in quietness and full submission. I do not permit a woman to teach or to assume authority over a man; she must be quiet. For Adam was formed first, then Eve. (Today’s New International Version)

I end the quote at verse 13 because the reference to the order of creation is crucial. Complementarians argue that this is not a transitory rule, required only in the first century context. The rule is rooted in creation and therefore permanent and universally binding.

The egalitarian position

It is obviously true, biologically, that men and women have different and complementary functions. But complementarians elevate this into a general principle, and forbid women to exercise leadership in the church or to teach men. I suppose complementary in this context means, “I rule and teach, and you follow and learn.”

But if women are no less intelligent than men, no less responsible, and no less vessels of the Holy Spirit —

“In the last days,” God says,
      ”I will pour out my Spirit on all people.
Your sons and your daughters will prophesy,
      your young men will see visions,
      your old men will dream dreams.
Even on my servants, both men and women,
      I will pour out my Spirit in those days,
      and they will prophesy.”

(Acts 2:17-18, TNIV)

— how is it that complementarians prohibit women from leading or teaching men?

Texts in tension

It’s important to note that the issue doesn’t turn on one side remaining faithful to scripture while the other side repudiates scripture. The issue turns on which scriptures are regarded as paramount. While complementarians emphasize 1Ti. 2 (and other, similar texts), egalitarians emphasize Acts 2 (and other, similar texts).

In other words, an interpretive problem arises when we try to reconcile one thread of New Testament teaching with another thread of New Testament teaching.

For example, St. Paul says (1Co. 14:33b-38 ) that women are to be silent in church. He states that this is the rule in all the churches (taking the latter half of verse 33 with the verse that follows — translations differ on this point).

But elsewhere in the same letter, St. Paul refers to women prophesying and praying. Indeed, as long as women wear a symbol of authority on their heads (1Co. 11:5-16), Paul indicates that it’s OK for them to pray and prophesy during corporate worship.

On the face of it, there’s a contradiction between these two texts, even though they were written by the same author in the same letter. One of the texts must be qualified (interpreted narrowly) in order to bring the two texts into harmony with one another. The question becomes, Which text is paramount, and which text must be construed narrowly?

Rules vs. actual examples

New Testament texts diverge in a similar fashion on the topic of leading and teaching. As with the 1 Corinthians problem, the pattern is this:

1. On the one hand, there is a rule that women are to submit to male authority (which makes it out of bounds for them to teach men) ;
2. On the other hand, there are actual examples of women carrying out ministries that involve leading and teaching.

Thus we can rephrase our earlier question:  Is the rule paramount? — or is the church’s practice paramount?

As noted in the earlier post, John Stott lists multiple examples of women leaders in the Bible:  Huldah, Miriam, Deborah, the first witnesses of Christ’s resurrection, Philip’s four unmarried daughters (who prophesied), the women who prayed and prophesied at Corinth, Priscilla, Euodia and Syntyche, Phoebe, Mary, Tryphena, Tryphosa, Persis, and Junia.

Thus Stott establishes an a priori case that God approves of women ministering in ways that necessarily involve leading and teaching. As in Acts 2, we see the Sovereign Lord pouring out his Spirit on women and empowering them for ministry.

An evolutionary explanation for religious faith

I found a very interesting article in the Atlantic archives (from December 2005). The author is Paul Bloom.

It’s a fairly detailed article (four pages) searching for an evolutionary explanation for religion. It’s well worth reading in its entirety, but here’s a bullet-point outline:

• Introductory observation:  even in our scientific era, most of the world persists in religious faith. (Western Europe may be an exception.)
• Mr. Bloom explores, and rejects, two conventional, naturalistic explanations for religious faith:
1. Religion as the opiate of the masses:  to soothe the pain of existence and give meaning to human life;
2. Religion as social glue. Groups with a shared religious faith have an evolutionary advantage over groups without, because religion facilitates social cohesion, which in turn improves the odds of survival.
• Having explored and rejected those two theories, Mr. Bloom turns his attention to a third explanation which he regards as more plausible.

To be precise, the author’s prefered explanation is presented in two complementary parts. I intend to explore only the first half of his explanation here.

Mr. Bloom argues that human beings make a distinction between the physical and the psychological aspects of the world. Here’s his thesis:

We perceive the world of objects as essentially separate from the world of minds, making it possible for us to envision soulless bodies and bodiless souls. This helps explain why we believe in gods and an afterlife.

The tendency to make this distinction is already present in children:

In a significant study the psychologists Jesse Bering, of the University of Arkansas, and David Bjorklund, of Florida Atlantic University, told young children a story about an alligator and a mouse, complete with a series of pictures, that ended in tragedy: “Uh oh! Mr. Alligator sees Brown Mouse and is coming to get him!” [The children were shown a picture of the alligator eating the mouse.] “Well, it looks like Brown Mouse got eaten by Mr. Alligator. Brown Mouse is not alive anymore.”

The experimenters asked the children a set of questions about the mouse’s biological functioning — such as “Now that the mouse is no longer alive, will he ever need to go to the bathroom? Do his ears still work? Does his brain still work?” — and about the mouse’s mental functioning, such as “Now that the mouse is no longer alive, is he still hungry? Is he thinking about the alligator? Does he still want to go home?”

As predicted, when asked about biological properties, the children appreciated the effects of death: no need for bathroom breaks; the ears don’t work, and neither does the brain. The mouse’s body is gone. But when asked about the psychological properties, more than half the children said that these would continue: the dead mouse can feel hunger, think thoughts, and have desires. The soul survives. And children believe this more than adults do, suggesting that although we have to learn which specific afterlife people in our culture believe in (heaven, reincarnation, a spirit world, and so on), the notion that life after death is possible is not learned at all. It is a by-product of how we naturally think about the world.

Thus the distinction between body and soul is innate. That suggests (in Mr. Bloom’s mind) that the distinction arose through evolution.

Two images from Afghanistan

From a series of twelve news images published here.

I will leave the interpretation of the images up to the viewer. But I thought they were provocative, in juxtaposition like this.

Jesus’ synagogue and Peter’s house

Michael Pahl has a Don’t miss it! post up at The Stuff of Earth:  photographs of his trip to Capernaum.

He doesn’t really have a photograph of Jesus’ synagogue. But he does have photographs of a synagogue from 3rd or 4th century Capernaum, which presumably was built on the same site as the synagogue Jesus visited.

And he may or may not have a photograph of Peter’s house in Capernaum. Of course there’s no way to know for sure, but the circumstantial evidence is suggestive of a first-century Christian meeting place.

Which matters more: practice or doctrine?

Julie Clawson offers an interesting review of a book by Stephen J. Nichols. In particular, I would like to pick up on this paragraph:

[Nichols] dismisses many of the cultural portrayals of Jesus because they emphasise relationship or practice over doctrine. He asserts that correct Christology must always be primary for believers. While I respect the need to have a good theology, I question his hierarchical approach. I just can’t picture Jesus stopping himself in the middle of the Sermon on the Mount, slapping his forehead, and saying “but what am I thinking! All this stuff I’m telling you to do is great, but […]. Making sure you agree with what the right group says about me will be the primary part of your faith…”

Julie is part of an emerging church. Emerging Christianity seeks to restore an appropriate balance between practice and doctrine.

I agree with the “emerging” emphasis on practice. In particular, as you can see from one of my recent posts, I tend to be suspicious of the Church’s conventional preoccupation with christology.

Obviously christology matters. Titles like “Lord”, “Christ”, “Saviour”, and “Son of God” are central to the faith. And, to the extent that the early councils were combatting heresies (e.g., the claim that Jesus only seemed to be human), they served a crucially important function. But hair-splitting attempts to work out the precise relationship between the divine and the human elements of Jesus’ nature are misguided, in my opinion.

For too long the Church has tended to make such mind-boggling formulas the test of Christian orthodoxy. Whereas we would never think of questioning anyone’s orthodoxy on the basis of, for example, a callous indifference toward the poor.