Thursday, July 21, 2016

The Why that Wept

I recently listened to an audio book and was impressed by the increased amount of expression the author was able to provide through the medium of speaking instead of writing. I thought it would be fun to try something new. If you would like to hear this piece read as audio, please click here. (You may have to follow the steps to use Music Player for Google Drive, or just download the file).

A Parable.

The What and the Which were walking in the meadow one summer day and came across a large maple tree.

Would you look at that tree? the Which asked the What. The What responded that he was looking at the tree, as it was the only thing in the meadow that he could look at. What about it? he asked. You're the What, the Which said. You tell me.

The What paused, scratched his chin and looked up at the tree. After much thought, he remarked that it was a tree, and that furthermore, it was a maple tree. The What was a simple man. He concerned himself with describing the tree: the way it looked, the way it felt, the way it grew, the way it smelled and the way it sounded when its leaves rustled or its trunk groaned and creaked in the wind. He described its use: the taste of its sweet sap and the way it yielded that sap for humans to make syrup, the way it provided them with the shade they were now standing under to protect themselves from the sun, and the way it provided an umbrella to those who took shelter under its branches when it rained. He described how, when cut down and chopped up, it yielded wood for humans to build things with or to burn for fuel and warmth.

The Which listened, impressed with the What's knowledge and perception. She appreciated his direct manner; his concise explanations; his practical conclusions. And she thought he was asking and answering solid, deep questions about the tree. But ultimately, she felt that while description of the tree was a valuable pursuit, asking questions about what made the tree distinct better helped in the understanding of its nature. We need the dark to see the light; we need the cold to feel the heat; we need the bitter to taste the sweet, she said. She went on to expound: how the tree was distinguished from others, how we had developed a system to classify such things like this—how it was first a member of the kingdom Plantae, then how it was of the order Sapindales, the family Sapindaceae, the subfamily Hippocastanoideae, and finally of the genus Acer. She noted how this tree was deciduous, what that meant, and how it differed from coniferous trees.

She would've kept going, but the How (who had agreed to go with the What and the Which on their walk but had lagged behind) finally caught up with them and heard the tail-end of the Which's thoughts. He interrupted, agreeing with the Which that the discrimination of this tree in contrast to other trees was helpful in the understanding of this one, but felt that in the end, classifications got a bit too arbitrary and abstract for his liking. If the What was a practical man, the How was even more so. He worried, not about possibilities or potentials or fantasies, but about the real and the actual; the way something was done. How did this tree get here and grow here and survive here? Who or what facilitated the seed's arrival at this location as well as its expansion? Details, details, details, he asked. Implementation mattered: how did the seed go from needing the soil to protect and nourish it to needing to escape and grow beyond it? What made possible the tree's survival as a frail sprout; what made possible the nutrient transportation system it had from its deepest roots to the tip of its leaves; what made possible the incredible weight load its limbs could sustain?

The discussion attracted others: the Where and the When showed up together in the same time and place, as always. The Where felt it important to posit that one cannot have a proper consideration of a noun such as this tree without a solid understanding of its domain, or the district in which it finds itself. What gives relevance? he wondered. Does our being near this tree give it its relevance, or does this tree's being near us give us our relevance? He noted that closeness in locale is not always geographical, but can be emotional, logical, or even spiritual. He pondered if the tree might be a different tree were it to have been somewhere else. His brother the When felt much the same way and was sympathetic to his brother's musings, but modified and narrowed them to focus on the tree's axis and location on the plane of time. What was the date of this tree's conception—of all trees' conception, for that matter—and what was or would be the duration of this tree: how long was it planned (if it was), how long would it live, and how long would it's legacy endure?

It was growing evening now, yet the reflections flowed like water. The Whose inspected the tree, looking for signs of care or modification. She wondered if the tree belonged to anyone or if it was nobody's—who held dominion over the tree? Would it matter to the tree's essence if it was claimed by no one or by someone—or by everyone, for that matter? In a sense, didn't they all share in identification with the tree, enjoying its benefits and participating in its existence? And yet, in another sense, wasn't the tree independent, free, and original, such that it responded to no claims of ownership by anyone? The Could idolized the tree's great size and strength and maturation and elegance, and wished he was able to delimit how far it might expand in these categories. What is the maximum height this tree could reach? he asked. Is it possible it could be any more beautiful than it already is? The Would listened intently to what the Could had to say, since his contemplations affected her most pressing questions—she wanted to know what the tree could do so she might guess what it would do. She fantasized. She conceptualized. She wished she might know the future so she could predict or estimate the decisions the tree would make or the decisions that would be made concerning it. She hoped the tree would last and endure, yet at the same time anxiously bemoaned all the ways it might meet detriment and harm. For her, the questions to ask were questions of concepts, and notions, and possibilities, and potentials (she rubbed the How the wrong way sometimes).

It was finally getting dark. The little group of intellectuals underneath the tree had grown in knowledge through their reflections and investigations. They had stretched their minds, and their questions were deep, and real, and sincere. And they meant something, and they mattered. But now they could hardly see the tree anymore, and it was time to go home. They made their way back pensively, still discussing and arguing, debating and deliberating among themselves. The May had picked up on what the Whose had said, and was speculating on what the tree was permitted to do should it have an owner. What decrees governed the tree? What laws did it obey? Were these laws, should they exist, benevolent or malevolent? Were they just or cruel? Were they applicable and relevant or distant and confusing? As their voices died away in the distance, the Should could be heard taking the May's questions one step further—it was not his place to say that her questions weren't important, but he was concerned more with duty. Never mind what its limits or permissions were, was there a moral standard of ethics the tree should follow, and if so, what was it? What ought the tree do? What ought the tree not do? What ought to be done or not be done to the tree?

Eventually all the deliberations and meditations and ruminations were replaced by the silence of the night. Everything was still. It seemed even the normal, nocturnal sounds from the surrounding woods were hushed.

And the tree seemed to be alone.

But it wasn't.

There was no wind, yet a few of its upper leaves rustled as a branch moved slightly. Hidden high up in the arms of the tree's embrace, the Why stirred. He had heard everything. He had listened to the What and the Which, the How and the Where and the When. He understood the questions of the Whose, the Could, the Would, the May, and the Should. He applauded them; he approved them; he sympathized with them.

But he knew he could never join them. His face darkened because his questions were too deep for words. His mental wanderings tormented him, yet he couldn't express them. If he could have described them, they would have had something to do with meaning. And significance. And essence. But those words only shed light on a fraction of the entirety of the nature of his questions. Even if he could articulate them fully, he knew his questions could never be fully answered by facts or opinions or even any 'ologies' or 'ophies' or 'isms.' He wanted to know that which was, in some sense, unknowable. Long after the How and the May's questions had been satisfied, his would remain. The What and the Could would have their curiosity resolved soon enough, but his might never be.

You see, he wanted to know why. He did not just want to know how the tree got there, or when it would die, or which tree it was. He wanted to know why. Why the tree? Why the Tree and not a Mlee? Why Leaves and not Zeeves? Why Roots and not Thoots? Why was the tree there? What was the intention, or purpose, or cognizance, or sense behind its existence? Was there? And if there was, did it matter? Why?

And so the Why wept. Do you understand why the Why wept? Careful—if you say yes, keep reading.

But the Why wept.

The Why is a Lust.

My affair with the Why begin quite early in life. To hear my parents tell it (though I'm certain they exaggerate or I exaggerate) it was as if my first word was not “Mommy,” or “Daddy,” but “why?” Why did I have two sisters? Why did Daddy and Mommy have me? Why was my name Josiah? Why did Daddy leave in the morning? Why did I have to eat my cereal? Why did we only eat it in the morning? Why was the sky blue? Why didn't I have more toys? Why were dogs so scary? Why did we have to go someplace? Why were there yellow footprints on the wall? Why did my parents have my little brother? Why was he so chubby? Why did cars go vroom? Why was God old? Why didn't my paper airplanes fly? Why did I have to “help” Daddy fix the car? Why did our neighbors look so different from us? Why was the little girl in our complex allowed to dress differently than my sisters? Why was food good? Why did I have to go to bed? Why was Daddy so tall? Why was Mommy so soft? Why did Daddy wear glasses? Why did I have to get glasses? Why did 2 + 3 = 5? Why did I have to obey? Why couldn't I have more ice cream? Why didn't that boy like ice cream? Why were Gma and Gpa so fun? Why couldn't they be there all the time?

Why. Why. Why.

I would be lying if I said that I always asked those questions out of a primitive desire to know their answer. I wanted the Because, yes—but more than that, I wanted the comfort of the concept of the Because. I took comfort in knowing that my parents always had a because, and that it was the correct because. Which is why when they would sometimes tell me they didn't know the Because, or that I wasn't ready for the Because, I wouldn't let it go. I had to know why. I had to know the Because. And so I would try to force them to give me the Because, even when I knew deep down they didn't have the ultimate Because. I would keep pressing until they grew tired of it, and on occasion forbade me from asking questions for a while.

Lust is an attempt to satisfy that which cannot be satisfied by that which you are trying to satisfy it with. Proverbs 27:20 says, “Sheol and Abaddon are never satisfied, and people’s eyes are never satisfied.” Sexualized lust tries to gratify itself with the consumption of more and more of the human body, of more and more sex or more and more porn or more and more victims. Proprietary lusts like avarice and miserliness seek to quench their thirst by amassing or retaining more and more things. Wanderlust is never content being where it is, but must always fill the void by going, seeing, experiencing something new, something different, something other.

In some sense, the asking of the question why is a lust. It is never satisfied. As a little boy, I gradually began discovering, to my horror, that the bottom was dropping out of my why. I realized that I could ask whys about my whys. In later years, my sister told me a story that described this. She said two fellows were sitting discussing theology late at night. The first fellow knew his stuff, that other fellow not so much. The one who knew his stuff expounded and explained his stuff eloquently to the other. When he finished, the other fellow paused, furrowed his brow, and finally asked why what the first fellow had said was true. Encouraged, the first fellow continued to educate the other and explained his becauses. When he was done, the other fellow again furrowed his brow and asked why that explanation was true. Appreciating the depth of the other fellow's interest in what he was saying, the first fellow reached even deeper and explained the because for his becauses. This process continued until the first fellow, in the middle of one of his explanations, was rudely interrupted by a snore from the other fellow, who had simply been asking why to amuse himself with seeing how far the first fellow would go!

I discovered there was no law that said I couldn't question my answers or even my questions. I was capable of asking: Why was I here? Why did I exist? Because God. But why because God? Why was God? Why did God? Or, as I started school, after learning the rules for English, or Math, or Science: Why the rules? Some rules were man-made, but some were discovered. How did those fundamental ones get there? Why were they there? Why were they the way they were and not another way? I could analyze even deeper: why did the Because answer the Why? Why was it that that was the way the system worked? And why was I searching for a because to that question if that was the very system I was questioning? In a different world, were becauses questions and whys answers?

Like the layers of an onion, the layers of the Why must be pulled back. In my current world of computer programming, though we hate to admit it, sometimes our software doesn't work the way a customer expects. They will ask: Why does the software do this or act this way? Because they expected it to do something different than what it does. But why do they expect different behavior? Because we told them it would behave differently, and they trust us. But why does it behave differently? Because it's a bug. But why is it a bug? Because the logic of intention did not match the logic of production. Why? Because the programmer didn't understand all the variables in play, or maybe he didn't anticipate gaps in security, or maybe he was told something incorrectly. Or maybe he was just frustrated. Why? Because he was overworked. Why? Because management planned poorly. Why? Because they are stressed and overworked. Why? Because the CEO expects functionality in an unreasonable amount of time. Why? Because maybe the customers are pressing him for more and better sooner and sooner. Why? Because they were never taught any differently. Why? Because nobody taught them. Why? It's not the business culture. Why? Because that's the way history has developed. Why? Because of a million factors, each of which would take an eternity to explain…

…you see, you can go forever. An onion only has so many layers before you reach its core. But the Why has infinite layers which must be peeled back.

And that's why I say the Why is a lust. It is never satisfied.

The Why is Distinct.

Other questions have layers too. The Where can go to infinity too. Just ask any kid who's played around with Google Earth. Where am I? As I sit here writing, I am on my couch. In my living room. In my house. On my street. In my neighborhood. In Harrisonburg. In Rockingham county. In Virginia. In the United States of America. In the Western hemisphere. On the earth. Though perhaps software such as Google Earth stops here, we know the Where doesn't. In our solar system. In our galaxy, which we call the Milky Way. In its category of galaxies. In its category of categories of galaxies. Etc., etc., etc.

The How has no limit also. Many feel with the advancement of technology and science that we are progressing further in our knowledge of the How than ever before. Instinctually, I think we realize that no matter how many facilitatory details we understand, there is always a deeper layer. How do those things or basic blocks function?

But I think the Why is different.

I believe the Why is the deepest question man can ask.

Philosophy is defined in the dictionary as the study or rational investigation of truth, knowledge, existence, nature and meaning of life, etc. It means “the love of wisdom.” But I think at its simplest, philosophy is the love of the Why. It is the love of asking why. As humans, it seems ingrained within us to ask the question why. Much of our literature, and culture, and development we owe to those before us who asked why. We want to know, we are curious, we must learn, and expand, and grow in our knowledge. Yet we seem to struggle with the Because. Much harm has come throughout history from the lack of the Because, or from the incorrect Because, or from the hiding of the Because. We search for the Because, yet we do not handle it very well.

One might say to Why is human; to Because divine.

I think wisdom is also, in a sense, joined to the Why. Just as wisdom cannot be gained by simply reading an instruction manual, so too I don't think wisdom can be defined by simply reading a dictionary. What is wisdom? In the Bible, wisdom is undeniably, unquestionably, undoubtedly, unmistakably unioned with God. Proverbs, the book of wisdom, says “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is understanding” (9:10).

There is the school of thought, conscious or subconscious, that defines wisdom as the avoidance of the Why. To quote Lord Alfred Tennyson in The Charge of the Light Bridgade: “Theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die.” Job asked some serious whys in His sufferings, and at the end of them, God said: “Who is this who obscures my counsel with ignorant words?” It is valuable—vital, even—to accept that your Whys might not be answered. It is wisdom to continue in life and faith in spite of having no Becauses. Paul cuts down the Whys of hypothetical Jewish objector in Romans 9 with the Because of God's sovereignty.

But I cringe at this line of thinking. I don't believe that the fear of the Lord means the fear of the Why. Rather, could it be that the knowledge of the Holy One can often come through the asking of the question why? Could it be, for example, that God rebuked Job, not for his whys, but for assuming becauses that weren't his to assume? Could it be that wisdom is on intimate terms with the Why? Could it be that God is okay with the Why? Could it be that some of the wisest men in the Bible asked the Why?

If the book of Ecclesiastes were an emotion, it would be a sigh. It is a blank, listless face that, when presented with “everything under the sun,” both pleasures and injustices, has run out of words and can only stare the questions of life back in the face. I think Solomon wrote that book on the back of the Why from cover to cover. Implicit in every page of that book is the question why.

His why was an intellectual why. He analyzed, exhausted, plumbed the depths of the layers of the Why searching for a because. This is my primary why as well. As a teenager, as a college student, and even now, I am still the little boy I was, lying awake at night, listless and sleepless because of the Why. I ask this why, not because it presses itself in on me, but because it is there. Since there are no walls or gates guarding the cavernous depths of this metal cave, I enter. Not because I have to, but because I want to. And I torment myself needlessly. But torment myself I do.

The Why is not always optional. Sometimes it invites itself into our lives in a way we cannot refuse. There is the why of the little boy who feels the sharp pain in his heart every time he hears a deep male voice, asking why his father left him. Why him? There is the why of the girl who lays on her bed asking why nobody wants her. Why her? The why of the couple that gives birth to a stillborn. Why them? This why often comes through grief or unexpected circumstances. It is the why of pain. (Sometimes, this same why comes to us through the experience of great fortune or blessing; a joy so sweet it causes the heart to burst from the chest and weep. But that is rarer). Why us? Why not someone else? we ask. The prophet Jeremiah was deep friends with this why, I think. He and Job both asked the same question: Why were they born if they were just going to suffer? What sense was there in that? His Lamentations represents the why of struggle—there was a reason he was called the Weeping Prophet.

I think that this why is more genuine than the other. It not interested in the academic immersion of the mind in the Why as the intellectual why is. It does not pursue the Why for amusement or even actualization so much as it wrestles with it for resolve and resolution. In a sense it is the truer version of the Why because it is more guttural—it comes from our core. And ultimately, I believe it is more authentic because that which it attempts to answer the Why with is closer to the nature of the Why—but I'm getting ahead of myself.

God Himself asked why. In some sense, when Jesus in the garden was sweating drops of blood and asking His Father if the cup could pass, He was asking why. He was asking why He had to suffer. On the cross, He asked why His Father had forsaken Him.

Jesus, the One whose wisdom surpassed Solomon's, asked God the Why. And I believe His why had all the elements of the intellectual why and the struggle why, but also was more—it was a consummational why. It was related to His purpose, and by proxy, His identity. Was this really the way it had to be done? Couldn't there possibly be another way? Why was this His mission? Why was there fulfillment in this? And on the cross, desperately screaming at God: Does this matter? Do I matter? If this is so significant, and purposeful, and impactful, than why have You forsaken Me?!?

The Why and Postmodernism.

As I grew older, our family moved from time to time. I met new people and made new friends. I was introduced to different and bigger surroundings. I started reading and was exposed to new ideas from smarter, older, brighter minds. I experienced things I had never experienced and was placed in situations I had never been in before. My world was expanding.

And my list of whys was growing. I wanted to be smart, and when I looked around, I saw that in social circles, or in education, or in sports, the smart people weren't asking why but were saying because. The ones who were learning asked why, but the ones who knew said because. So I wanted to say because.

But every time I found a because for one of my whys, it brought ten new whys along with it. I tried so hard to keep my whys paired with suitable becauses. I wanted to be sure I knew what I believed. But at the same time, my ability to apply the Why to my own beliefs scared me (and still does!). I wished it weren't possible to question my beliefs, but it was. The door was not locked and in fact, was wide open. If I could question my beliefs, how did I know they were valid? I was standing on a platform of becauses, but how did I know they were real? What if they weren't? Then I would fall, right? And so I thoroughly examined the foundations for my beliefs. I found bigger and better and stronger becauses. And then I analyzed the foundations for those foundations. Like an onion, I was peeling back the layers.

By the time I had finished a year and a half of college, I was exhausted. I transferred to a college I didn't trust morally. I didn't trust the culture, or the education, or the professors. I stayed because I wanted my degree, yet I found it hard to ask why. How can you ask why if you don't trust the ones who say because? So I stopped. I stopped asking why.

And I wrestled with postmodernism.

Postmodernism, formally, is a reaction to modernism, with all its Thomas Aquinas and his “I think therefore I am” and its search for exhaustive knowledge and its desire to attain indubitable certainty. Postmodernism, on the other hand, tends to reject things like grand narratives and absolute truths and rationality and even reality, preferring to dwell on relatives and pluralism instead. Postmodernism finds truth in introspection or self-referentiality. As you can imagine, this produces some weighty tensions with the Christian faith: The Christian faith has a grand narrative. The Christian faith claims absolutely that there is absolute truth. The Christian faith rejects the self as the source of truth and instead finds the source of truth in one place: God. From postmodernism, we hear phrases like, “this is my truth,” or “truth is what you make it.” But from Christianity, we hear phrases like “you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free,” or “Your word is truth.”

Now with the deluge of information we are able to access, we are exposed to more truth claims than ever before. I see in postmodernism an exhaustion. I see in postmodernism an inability to sort and evaluate all the claims to absolute truth. I see in postmodernism an exasperated sigh and a throwing up of the hands. Ultimately, I think postmodernism has given up on the Why.

I think postmodernism asks: Why why?

Inherent to the very nature of the Why is the search for the Because. But the Because is incredibly hard to find. So postmodernism performed a very sly trick. Instead of asking the Why and searching for the Because, postmodernism simply replaced the Because. Still ask Why, it tells the thinkers of our time, but you won't be able find the Because. Instead, you must provide the Because. You must decide the Because. You must determine your own because. Because the real Because is too hard to find (ironically, that is one because it did find!). Postmodernism took the Why and mangled it. It took the Why and cheapened it.

Counterfeit money appears to be able to command value in the marketplace, but it cannot. In the same way, postmodernism presents a why that appears to be marketable and have value, but in the end is worthless. A why with a because that you make up is no why at all, but a parlor game, an illusion, a breeze uncapturable. It's the easy way out, and I think postmodernism knows it. I think postmodernism crawls into bed at night and cries because it knows it’s fake.

I reject postmodernism.

I am learning to why again. Hard as it is, we must ask the Why. The real Why. The real Because is not always easy to find—in fact it seems it rarely is. But it is the real; it is the genuine; it the actual.

And we must seek it. We must ask the Why. We must.

The Why's Answer.

I never explained why I think the Why is the deepest of all the questions, or even the archetype of the ultimate question, but I hinted at it. I think it's different because of what it is searching for. Every honest question is a search for an answer. The What is satisfied with descriptions of a noun. The Which is fulfilled by classifications of a noun. The How is gratified by the story of a noun. The Where and the When are contented by the placement of a noun. The Whose's work is done when the owner of a noun is identified. The Could is completed when the boundaries of a noun are found. The Would is finished when the noun's future is known. The May finds culmination in the government of the noun. The Should rests in the moral standards presiding over the noun.

But I do not think the Why finds its ultimate consummation in an explanation. I think the explanation is a representation, an agent of the answer the Why is really seeking.

In the opening story, I asked if you knew why the Why wept and told you to be careful if you thought you did. The reason I did so was because the only true reason you could know why the Why wept would be to enter my fictional world of personified questions, go to the maple tree, climb up the trunk, and sit down beside the Why.

And you would have to ask the Why … why do you weep?

And the Why could tell you. But ultimately, you would not know the answer from a mere linguistic comprehension of the words he spoke, you would know the answer by looking into the eyes of the Why.

The Why is the only question, I believe, that is not satisfied fully until it is answered by the final character in this odd play: the Who. The infinitely-layered Why must be answered by an infinity-layered Who. That is why things can never answer the Why, but a person must. As a child, I asked my parents questions because I wanted explanations, but in a sense I also wanted them. I wanted them to be my answer. I was searching in my questions for the answer of their personhood, even though they couldn't always provide that for me.

People always talk about what they'll say to God when they get to heaven. Most seem to have at least one why or two that they want to ask God if they can catch Him alone for a moment between all the festivities and celebrations. Some are purely intellectual: really, why do You like the number seven so much? Some are raw beyond imagination: why did You allow my wife to be raped in front of me while I was forced to watch helplessly? If I were honest, I wouldn't mind asking God a few whys myself. I don't know if we'll get explanations or not.

But I don't think that we'll need them. Or that we should expect them.

That would be like a husband preferring to look at a picture of his wife instead of interacting with her when she's right in front of him! Or preferring to entertain the ambassador when the King is in the next room! Or preferring to listen to a recording of your favorite band when they have all their equipment in front of you, ready to perform live! We won't need explanations from God because He is the answer behind the explanation. He is the Who we are really seeking. And we will see Him face to face.

Job never received recorded explanations from God for the many whys he asked during the course of his sufferings. But he did receive his answer. He received God.

Job 42:3b-5 | Surely I spoke about things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know. You said, “Listen now, and I will speak. When I question you, you will inform Me.” I had heard rumors about You, but now my eyes have seen You.

When our eyes have seen God, our whys that wept in despair for lack of an answer will weep for joy. And we will know that the Why was infinitely worth asking.

And the Answer infinitely worth finding.

Saturday, April 30, 2016

Hoops

Ball bouncing. Old shoes, scuffing across old cement. Clang. Noisy metal rim vibrating. Rebound chasing. Worn leather, sliding, not gripping, through my hands. Wishing it was gripping. Swoosh, weathered net embracing ball softly. Swoosh again. Gaining rhythm. Clang. Rhythm gone.

Alone.

Distantly, bat meeting softball. Dong. Little girl. Five. Head-to-toe gear. Dong. Over-eager father: pitching, fielding, coaching, showing, urging, scolding. Not letting her be a kid. Soft, laughing chatter. Different direction. Conservative women, playing tennis. Girls in tanks and short shorts, next court.

Still alone.

Dribble, jump, shoot, rebound. Dribble, jump, shoot, rebound. Cars, driving by. Sun, warming skin. Leaves, rustling breeze. Joggers, padding feet.

Other ball now, bouncing in street. Other hand now, dribbling. Other voices now; loud, untamed.

No longer alone.

Nodding. They walking by. Three guys. Two girls. Clang. Other rim vibrating. Swoosh, other net inviting. Swoosh again. Calling. “Three on three?”

Crossing cement. Walking to them. Sizing them up. Collectively: not tall, not skinny, not athletic. Shooting for teams. Checking it up. Casual defense. Going through the motions, getting a hand up. Swish, three-pointer. Swish, another three-pointer. Tougher defense now. Preventing the shot. Forcing the drive. Blocking the shot attempt. Still losing; no help defense.

Shooting for teams again. Playing again. Driving in. Taking a hit on the head. No sympathy. Driving in again. Hit on head again: apparently clean defense. Driving, then pulling up. Missing jumper. Driving, kicking out to teammate. Losing again.

Shooting for teams again. Both girls with me. Frustrated. Taking over game. Driving in. Again and again. “And one,” I saying. Winning finally. Giving high-fives to girls. Big girl pulling her hand away. “I don't touch anyone," she saying.

“D***, this s***'s real.” “S***, I dunno.” Smoke, yawning and curling. Over the court. “Gimme some.” smallest guy asking. Request granted, reluctantly, begrudgingly. Big girl, looking at me. “You get the good stuff?” Saying no. “S*** yeah he does,” other guy calling. Others looking at him. Defending himself: “Well f*** then how would he know what it is?”

Not knowing what it is. Keeping shooting. Clink. Them leaning against chain link, puffing. Playing again now. No guarding inside. They only wanting to shoot threes. Getting my eye poked. Short girl getting elbowed on nose. Eyes watering, but she not showing weakness. “Over here, white boy!” other guy wanting the kick out. Making the jump hook. Instead. “Don't call him that,” someone saying.

Rim low six or so inches. Dunking, hands grasping metal, hanging in space, releasing. “D***”, them saying, but no admiration. Admiration equaling weakness, unable to be showing weakness. “Hey, the short girl's interested in you tonight,” big guy looking at me. “I'm not interested,” I saying. Shooting around, rebounding for them. Darkness creeping, breeze chilling. Turning floodlights on. Chemicals taking effect. Actions becoming more aggressive. Yelling. Big guy not giving big girl ball. “F*** you! F*** you! F*** it, I'll fight anybody here,” she saying. Guy and girl fighting. Others watching.

Treading softly. Suddenly realizing I need to go home. Collecting my ball. Walking by, outside chain link. My shoes crunching gravel. Another joining in the fighting. “Good playing,” to guy sitting watching. He nodding. Waiting for car to pass, crossing street, watching automatic street lights flickering on.

Car door shutting behind me. Keys rattling into ignition. Hand pausing.

Alone again.

Silence. Watching them, brow furrowing. Mulling, thinking, pondering.

Different lifestyles living.

Thursday, May 7, 2015

Weeping Over the Temple: What Happened to Hope?

There’s a fascinating story in the Old Testament. In the book of Ezra.

God’s people—vulnerable, exiled, weak—had been granted permission by none other than King Cyrus to return to Jerusalem and rebuild the temple. And they had; a band of about forty thousand of them.

In an outpouring akin to that of their ancestors leaving Egypt, the Israelites were not only given “silver articles, gold, goods, livestock, and valuables (in addition to all that was given as a freewill offering)” by their Persian neighbors (Ez 1:6), along with the restoration of all the temple articles that had been confiscated from the previous temple by Nebuchadnezzar (1:7), but they also gave abundantly: freewill offerings (2:68); gold coins, silver, priestly garments (2:69); money to the stonecutters and artisans; and food, drink and oil to those who brought cedar wood from Lebanon (3:7).

When the temple foundation had been completed, “they sang with praise and thanksgiving to the Lord: ‘For He is good, His faithful love to Israel endures forever.’”

Ezra 3:11a-13 | Then all the people gave a great shout of praise to the Lord because the foundation of the Lord’s house had been laid. But many of the older priests, Levites, and family leaders, who had seen the first temple, wept loudly when they saw the foundation of this house, but many others shouted joyfully. The people could not distinguish the sound of the joyful shouting from that of the weeping, because the people were shouting so loudly. And the sound was heard far away.


I feel there’s a lot of “weeping over the temple” happening in my time.

In many ways, it’s easy for me to identify with the young generation of Israelites who braved the return to their old homeland. They had not known Israel or the temple in its former glory. All they had ever known was the land of Persia, and many of its ways and customs.

It was a very vulnerable time, full of uncertainty over the future and fears in the present. Their enemies were many: Bishlam, Mithredath, Tabeel and the rest of his colleagues; later Tattenai the governor of the region west of the Euphrates River and Shethar-bozenai, and their colleagues; as well as the other hostile surrounding nations such as Moab and Edom. They were even being framed as the bad guys: their enemies wrote the King a letter, painting them as rebellious citizens and a threat to the crown (Ez 4).

It was a very depressing time. God’s people had no king; no power in the socio-political realm of the day. They had been scattered, and those who had kept their heritage were given trouble by those who had intermarried—the Samaritans (Ez 4:10, Neh 4:2). Their weakness was despised and mocked.

As a conservative Christian young person in America, there are many similarities I feel I could draw. Some days it feels God’s people have all but become scattered and assimilated into our surrounding pagan culture. It seems we have no power in the socio-political realm of our day. It seems our enemies are many—it seems many want to frame us as the bad guys: as intolerant, narrow-minded fundamentalists who stand against progress in the drive for “equality” and “rights” around the world, rather than standing for truth.

And my generation hasn’t even seen the “Old Temple!” We haven’t seen moral America in all its glory. We haven’t seen America when, say, men worked hard and enjoyed doing so. We haven’t seen the sexually-modest America, the Bible-believing America, the praying America, the economically-sound America, etc.

But perhaps the hardest development to take is the “weeping over the temple.” Most conservative leaders have lived long enough to have seen the golden days of the church in the generations past.

And when the present is worse than the past, frankly, it’s hard to have an optimistic outlook on the future.

There seems to be a spirit of pessimism that has crept into the conservative church to the point where anyone who hopes for a better future a) has their head in the sand, b) is unwise to give people false hope, c) just needs to wait about ten years or so before they have to put their foot in their mouth, or d) is downright immoral and unspiritual for hoping to avoid suffering in this world.

Furthermore, it’s easy to pine back to the days of the “Old Temple.” Back to the good-ol’-days, the days of strength in the church, the days of religious freedom and political honor.

But even though the past may have been better than the present, it is the past.

And even though the present may be weak and may get worse (though it doesn’t have to), it still is the present.

And I find myself, from the view of my generation, asking, “What happened to hope?”

I find myself asking more and more, not, “What can we find wrong about this time and generation” (of which, admittedly, there is much to find!), but “What can we find that is good about this time and generation?” Where can we see God working? What sense of hope is He giving us now for the future?

Is there anything about which we can “shout joyfully,” even in the midst of great sorrow over the faded past?

Because my generation desperately needs hope. We cannot live on pessimism alone.

In her autobiography Children of the Storm, Natasha Vins tells the story of the life of hardship and persecution her family endured in Russia during the 50s, 60s and 70s. At one point during her early teens, her father Georgi is captured and placed in prison. Things could not look bleaker. Russia is showing no signs of relenting its heavy domination of Christians, and Natasha’s father isn’t sure if he will ever know life outside prison walls again. Additionally, conditions in prison are horrible—they are dirty, and prisoners are often beaten. Georgi’s father was martyred in a similar prison for his faith.

Rather than assuming her son will suffer the same fate as her husband, Georgi’s mother Babushka writes to him in prison:

Your path is difficult. I know that you have times of loneliness, when you feel you could fall down under the heaviness of your cross. Do not despair even then, but remember that the sun is always shining behind the cloud! You are still young, and Lord willing, will live through it and even forget these hardships. Only valuable lessons learned in prison will remain with you for the rest of your life.

Dear Georgi, take courage! You will not even notice how fast the years of imprisonment will fly by and your term will be over. You will come home to us and once again experience the joy of freedom. May God protect you! Let us put our trust in Him, because our breath and life are in His hands.

And he did.

Not only was he miraculously deported to America along with his family, but they had only been in America a few years before God broke open the doors of Russia to allow its people freedom to read and possess the Bible, and they were granted access to go back and visit their homeland, bringing the gospel once again to familiar soil.

It strikes me that the Christians who seem to have the most hope for the earthly future are those who suffer the most in the present. Perhaps the reason we are so fearful of the future is because we really haven’t suffered at all. If so, that is something for which we can be divinely grateful.

But Josiah, you say, that’s all very well and good, and it’s nice that you want to keep a positive outlook on life, but are there really things to be hopeful about, or is it all just wishful thinking? We’re surrounded daily by bad news—scary headlines and negative statistics. Isn’t there a time when optimism must give way to realism?

Like the foundation of the new temple, they may seem small and insignificant in the light of the “Old Temple,” but let me share some ways in which I think we have seen God at work in our present generation:

  1. The fall of the Soviet Union and subsequent increase of freedom in Russia. Sometimes I wonder if we recognize the gravity of this. When we are tempted to think we have it bad here in America, we ought to try having lived in Communist Russia. Like Nazi Germany, during it's prime the Soviet Union was heralded as the significant of doom for our time, notorious for its persecution of Christians and the nuclear threat it posed to the West. Yet in 1991, around the time many in my generation were born, the unthinkable happened. The Soviet Union fell. Since then, there has been a steady growth in both the orthodox and evangelical churches of Russia.
  2. The surprising emergence of the church in Africa. At the start of the twentieth century, Christians in Africa numbered roughly 8 million. Today there are almost 400 million Christians, many of them evangelical, and the church is growing. In addition, the African bishops have been some of the most outspoken proponents in favor of traditional gender roles and marriage.
  3. The steady growth of the church in South America. The story in Latin and South American is much the same, with the growth of the church expected to exceed 600 million Christians in ten years.
  4. The explosion of the church in China. Though Christians in China have endured much persecution under perhaps what is gradually becoming the last Communist stronghold, the growth of the church is overwhelming, increasing at such a rate that if it continues, China may be the most Christian nation in fifteen years. Ironically, the Bible-printing business appears to be doing better in China than about anywhere else.
  5. The subtle change in opinion on abortion in America. Since 1973, what is probably America’s deepest present moral evil, the sacrifice of our children on the altar of convenience, has deeply stained this nation's hands with innocent blood. But Christian conservatives do seem to be winning small victories like this one and this one. In addition, Christian Blunt’s thorough fifteen-year survey appears to show pro-life support increasing in about every category. New technological advances in medicine, such as ultrasound, have generally had a positive, pro-life effect on mothers by allowing them to see their own children in the womb.
  6. The stubborn culture-changing ability of the church. “You’re on the wrong side of history,” is common charge leveled against the evangelical church today. Yet I can hardly think of a time when the church wasn’t on the “wrong side” of history! In the early centuries, post-Christ, the Roman Empire was the “right side” of history, and Christianity was most definitely on the “wrong side.” During the dark ages, the “wrong side” of history on which to be was to stand against many of the corrupt popes. Indeed, the popes considered the reformers of the sixteenth century to be on the “wrong side” of history, while the reformers themselves considered the Anabaptists to be on the “wrong side” of history! At the start of the twentieth century, supernatural/theological liberalism was considered the “future” of the church, yet over a full century has shown that not to be the case. Over and over again, against seemingly insurmountable odds, the church has quietly changed culture. The church does it's best work when it has something more to offer the world than simply an echo of the culture around it.
  7. The use of the internet to spread the gospel. It’s easy to bemoan the evils of the internet, the increased ease of access to pornography and other types of visual evils. It’s easy to fear the changes technology brings. It’s easy to fear teenagers and their twiddling thumbs. But technology has been vastly used of God to tell the world about His Son to people previously unreached.
  8. The increasing doubt over evolution as fact. Darwin’s macro-evolution theory has been harmful to our understanding of creation ex nihilo in Genesis, and has caused much doubt about who man is and what his responsibilities are before God. But there is some scientific, growing dissent of Darwin’s theory, with good reasons to do so. In addition, there is this recently passed law, in Tennessee of all places, which encourages submitting Darwin’s theories to the same critical thinking that other origin theories must endure, which could be the beginning of a shift in thinking on evolution in American schools.

Is there much to fear in our generation? Sure, there always is. Will the future present challenges to God’s people? Most likely.

Will the church overcome them? Most certainly (Mat 16:18). Our God is a God Who rebuilds temples; Our God is a God Who brings beauty from ashes and dust.

So I ask, am I foolish to hope? Even if my world turns upside down and we are plunged into the greatest disaster the world has ever known, would I then have been wrong in hoping for a better future? Would I have been unwise? Is it ever unwise to hope? Or would it have been better for me to have spent what is now the present in depression, even despair, over the many negative indicators in our world? Would that have better “prepared” me for life in the future?

Like Babushka, I will not be denied the prerogative to desire, even expect, better things ahead, even if it seems all indicators scream otherwise.

What happened to our hope?


Haggai 2:1-9 | On the twenty-first day of the seventh month, the word of the Lord came through the prophet Haggai: “Speak to Zerubbabel son of Shealtiel, governor of Judah, to Joshua son of Jozadak, the high priest, and to the remnant of the people. Ask them, ‘Who of you is left who saw this house in its former glory? How does it look to you now? Does it not seem to you like nothing? But now be strong, Zerubbabel,’ declares the Lord. ‘Be strong, Joshua son of Jozadak, the high priest. Be strong, all you people of the land,’ declares the Lord, ‘and work. For I am with you,’ declares the Lord Almighty. ‘This is what I covenanted with you when you came out of Egypt. And my Spirit remains among you. Do not fear. This is what the Lord Almighty says: ‘In a little while I will once more shake the heavens and the earth, the sea and the dry land. I will shake all nations, and what is desired by all nations will come, and I will fill this house with glory,’ says the Lord Almighty. ‘The silver is mine and the gold is mine,’ declares the Lord Almighty. ‘The glory of this present house will be greater than the glory of the former house,’ says the Lord Almighty. ‘And in this place I will grant peace,’ declares the Lord Almighty.”

Saturday, September 27, 2014

A Rather Boring "Brief" on a Rather Controversial Topic (Part 4 of 4)


You want me to put what on my head?

K. P. Yohannan, the founder of Gospel for Asia, tells this story:

Yohannan | I know of a man from India who was traveling in the United States and had an interesting encounter at a church. As he walked in, an older woman gestured to his head and said, “You are going into the worship service; you need to take that thing off your head.” He had forgotten to take off his hat! Of course, immediately he took it off, knowing that the Bible says men should not wear a head covering during a spiritual gathering. But when he went inside, he was surprised to find that none of the women wore a head covering even though the Bible teaches this truth in the same passage.

Often, the hardest things to accept in the Bible are not those things which are obscure or hard to understand, but those things which seem to fly in the face of cultural common sense.

Daniel B. Wallace also notes this tension:

Wallace | The argument that a real head covering is in view and that such is applicable today is, in some respects, the easiest view to defend exegetically and the hardest to swallow practically (emphasis his).

What are these men talking about? They’re talking about a passage found in Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians:

1 Corinthians 11:2-16 | Now I praise you because you always remember me and keep the traditions just as I delivered them to you. But I want you to know that Christ is the head [root: kephale] of every man, and the man is the head of the woman, and God is the head of Christ. Every man who prays or prophesies with something on his head dishonors his head. But every woman who prays or prophesies with her head uncovered [root: akatakaluptos] dishonors her head, since that is one and the same as having her head shaved. So if a woman’s head is not covered [root: katakalupto], her hair should be cut off. But if it is disgraceful for a woman to have her hair cut off or her head shaved, she should be covered [root: katakalupto]. A man, in fact, should not cover [root: katakalupto] his head, because he is God’s image and glory, but woman is man’s glory. For man did not come from woman, but woman came from man. And man was not created for woman, but woman for man. This is why a woman should have authority on her head, because of the angels. In the Lord, however, woman is not independent of man, and man is not independent of woman. For just as woman came from man, so man comes through woman, and all things come from God. Judge for yourselves: Is it proper for a woman to pray to God with her head uncovered? Does not even nature itself teach you that if a man has long hair it is a disgrace to him, but that if a woman has long hair, it is her glory? For her hair is given to her as a covering [root: peribolaion]. But if anyone wants to argue about this, we have no such custom, nor do the churches of God.

Perhaps the most famous evangelical feminist argument on this passage is that the word for “head,” kephale, means “source” rather than “head.” But it seems the evidence for this interpretation is surprisingly weak, and ultimately, a moot point. Words don’t hang in space waiting to be given a meaning. Even if this word did mean “source,” it wouldn’t change much. We are given a pretty good idea of what kephale means in the following verses:

Ephesians 1:22 | And He [God] put everything under His [Jesus’] feet and appointed Him as head over everything for the church.
Ephesians 5:22-24 | Wives, submit to your own husbands as to the Lord, for the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church. He is the Savior of the body. Now as the church submits to Christ, so wives are to submit to their husbands in everything.
Colossians 1:18 | He [Christ] is also the head of the body, the church; He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that He might come to have first place in everything.
Colossians 2:9-10 | For the entire fullness of God’s nature dwells bodily in Christ, and you have been filled by Him, who is the head over every ruler and authority.

Kephale implies authority. Even here in verse 3, we see this:

  • God is the kephale of Christ. God is Christ’s authority (1Co 15:24-28).
  • Christ is the kephale of man. Christ is man’s authority (Mt 28:18).
  • Man is the kephale of woman. Man is woman’s authority (Eph 5:22; 2Tm 2:11).

The reader of the passage very quickly becomes aware that some type of physical symbol is involved here. Paul is not only concerned with female submission and male headship in principle; he also wants Christian men and women to recognize physical symbols that point to the authority structure within the church.

This is not a new concept to the well-versed reader of the Bible. We already note that we practice the physical symbol of baptism upon belief in Jesus Christ (Rm 6:3-10; Ac 2:38; 10:47-48; 22:16; 1Pt 3:21; Mt 3:11; Gl 3:27; Mk 16:16; etc.), as well as the physical symbol of the Lord’s Supper (Jn 6:50-57; 1Co 11:17-34; Ac 20:7; Mt 26:26-29; Lk 22:19, etc.). In fact, we see closer parallels than that. Jesus, in His baptism, gave glory to His Head, His Father in heaven—in Matthew 3:17 we read: “And a voice from heaven said, ‘This is my Son, whom I love; with Him I am well pleased.’” The church gives glory to her Head in the remembrance of His death: “’Do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.’ For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” (1Co 11:26). Likewise, the woman gives glory to her head through the symbol of the headcovering: “every woman who prays or prophesies with her head uncovered dishonors her head” (1Co 11:5).

Additionally, we note that these symbols aren’t intended to be a message to unbelievers so much as they are intended to remind the Christian of biblical principles. Also, rather than being a legalistic tradition, the practice of the headcovering is an apostolic tradition rooted in Scripture. In 2 Thessalonians 2:15 we read: “Therefore, brothers, stand firm and hold to the traditions you were taught, either by our message or by our letter.”

Paul gives his first reason for the practice of the headcovering in verse 3: because of the example of divine authority structures. He details the order: God, Christ, man, woman. In verses 4-6, the second reason is given: the glory of man and woman. What brings glory to a man? To have an uncovered head. If he covered his head, he would be acting like a woman, dishonoring his own head, Christ. What brings glory to a woman? To cover her head. If she uncovers her head, she acts like a man and dishonors her own head, man. Just as it naturally tends to disgrace women to cut their hair short, so too, it disgraces them not to cover when they are praying or prophesying, which usually occurs during the public gathering of the body of Christ.

The third reason Paul gives comes from creation order in verses 7-9. In the beginning, man was created imago Dei, in the image of God. Furthermore, man is God’s glory—God takes delight in man. Because of this, his head ought to be uncovered. Woman, as part of man, shares in being made imago Dei as well as being God’s glory and delight. However, she is also man’s glory—man takes delight in woman. Because of this, her head ought to be covered. Paul notes two facts from creation which uphold this: woman was created for man and from him. The fourth reason Paul gives, in verse 10, comes from angelic example. Perhaps if any created beings understood authority structures and hierarches, it would be the angels, among whom we find seraphim (Is 6:2), cherubim (Gn 3:24; Rv 4:8; Ez 10:5), archangels (1Th 4:16; Jd 1:9), and angels (Gn 19:1; 28:12; Mt 4:11). Women are to have authority (exousia, either their own authority to pray and prophesy, granted by the veil, or their husband’s authority; cf. Mt 8:9) on their heads because of the example of the angels.

All throughout biblical writings, we notice the paradox between ontological equality and functional role difference. Here Paul brings it up once again in verses 11-12, reminding the two sexes of their mutual interdependence through the example of female childbirth—an ultimate reminder, in case any gender think the other is worth less, that both men and women come from God.

The fifth reason comes from nature in verses 13-15. “Judge for yourselves”—the ordinance of the covering or the uncovering of the head fits in very closely with the pattern of nature. Even nature teaches us that long hair is disgraceful on men and graceful on women. In fact, female hair is already given as a type of covering. Paul’s sixth and final reason comes from universal church practice: If any wanted to argue, this custom was practiced in all the churches of God, which spanned a wide geographical and cultural range. If anyone wanted to propose a new custom, the response was: “We have no such custom [like you have proposed], nor do any of the churches of God.”

Must Christian women wear fabric headcoverings today? Overtime, several reasons have been propounded as to why this is not so:

The hair is the covering. Verse 15 says: “For her hair is given to her as a covering.” There it is, black and white, right? Not quite. There are several reasons why Paul is not referring to the hair when he talks about women covering their head. First, the word used for “covering” here in verse 15, peribolaion, is a completely unrelated word to katakalupto, which is used everywhere else in this passage. Second, this statement finds itself in the context of the argument from nature, which implies that the verse means that hair is a natural example, given “as a [type of] covering” rather than “[in the place of] a covering.” Finally, it is hard to read verse 6 with a straight face if the hair is to be considered the covering, since one would have to read it like: “So if a woman’s head is not covered [i.e., her hair is cut off], her hair should be cut off.”

The hair pinned up is the covering. Leviticus 13:45 reads: “The person afflicted with an infectious skin disease is to have his clothes torn and his hair hanging loose [para], and he must cover his mouth and cry out, ‘Unclean, unclean!” In the LXX, this word para is translated into our Greek word akatakalyptos. Thus, it is argued, akatakalyptos means “loose, unkempt hair.” However, this simply seems to be a bad translation of the word. Furthermore, if we are going to be consistent, than men would need to have their hair “loose and unkempt” while praying or prophesying, which seems to contradict the command for men to have short hair. Finally, there is no evidence of any of the early church fathers interpreting the command in this way; all understand it to mean a fabric veil.

The head covering is cultural. While I admire many complementarian leaders for their serious biblical interpretation when it comes to other texts, yet I am disappointed at where they stop when it comes to this text. Note what John MacArthur has to say about 1 Timothy 2:11-15: “Some leaders and writers ... teach principles that attempt to redefine or even alter biblical truths to accommodate the standards of contemporary thinking in the world. To do that, of course, they have to believe that the apostles sometimes taught culturally determined customs rather than divinely revealed standards” (emphasis mine). John Piper and Wayne Grudem run along a similar vein, as well, when it comes to cultural arguments about other passages: “In demonstrating the permanent validity of a command, we would try to show from its context that it has roots in the nature of God, the gospel, or creation as God ordered it.” Thomas Schreiner also takes a similar view.

I agree with them—I just think they fail to heed their own words when it comes to this passage. All of them, in some way or another, attempt to hold the principle of male-headship intact without holding its symbol intact as well, with the reason given being that the custom of headcoverings was the cultural norm in Corinth at that time, while it isn’t today. Here’s why I don’t think we can do that:

  • It’s inconsistent to hold to the physical symbols of baptism and the Lord’s Supper without holding to the physical symbol of the headcovering. Our culture also doesn’t recognize or practice water baptism, or the physical consumption of food and drink during the Lord’s Supper. Does that mean we may abandon those as well?
  • Any appeal to cultural background ultimately takes the ability to understand biblical truth out of the layman’s hand and places it in the hands of “experts.” I’m not saying that we should never seek to know what cultural was like to better understand the Bible, but I am wary of using some offhand reference to “that’s just how things were back then.” In doing so, we subtly began to interpret inspired words based upon our scattered, faulty knowledge of uninspired words, rather than vice-versa. Note R.C. Sproul: “It is one thing to seek a more lucid understanding of the biblical content by investigating the cultural situation of the first century; it is quite another to interpret the New Testament as if it were merely an echo of the first-century culture.”
  • Appeals to culture are often used simply as a guise for people who don’t want to do what a text calls them to do. The question may be raised, if you put so much emphasis on cultural understanding of that era, would you be willing to change your lifestyle tomorrow if your understanding of that era changed? The unspoken answer for many is simply no.
  • Appeals to culture always assume that one’s own culture is “better.” They did things that way, but that was only because their primitive, uncivilized culture dragged them down. Here, in enlightened America, we do things this way—our culture is “better.” We understand things better. (In actuality, might it not be American culture that needs a “kick in the pants,” so to speak?)
  • Neither Paul nor any of the other biblical writers ever appeal to culture when it comes to gender issues. Ever. Think about that. How ironic is it that the vast majority of American Christians assign to the biblical writers the one reason that they never give on this issue? Particularly here, none of the six reasons Paul gives in this passage for this physical symbol (divine authority structures, male-female glory, creation order, angels, nature, and universal church practice) have any relation whatsoever to culture. We patronize Paul when we assign his reasoning to cultural custom, and we extrapolate his meaning and intentions.
  • Further, it would seem that Paul’s command in 1 Corinthians actually went against Corinthian custom. Milton Vincent (TMS) notes that “The overwhelming evidence is that Roman men would cover their heads just as Roman women would do when they ... were involved in a very active religious exercise” (Corinth was a Roman colony). Bruce Terry affirms this: “In the first century among the Romans, both men and women worshiped with the head covered; among the Greeks, both men and women worshiped with the head uncovered; and among the Jews, men covered their heads and women uncovered theirs when they worshiped. Thus Paul is introducing a new Christian tradition, which he grounds, not in the social customs of his day, but in theological arguments.” In his research article The Importance of Roman Portraiture for Head Coverings in 1 Corinthians 11:2-16, (yes, it’s a long title!) David Gill notes that: “As Paul seems to have been encouraging men not to appear capite velato [literally ‘with covered head’], yet asking women to do the opposite, there might be different reasons for the two pieces of guidance [other than culture].” If this is indeed true, then Paul’s command for women to cover their heads and men to uncover would have been just as counter-cultural then as it is today.

Finally, I appeal to the testimony of church history. Drawings on the catacombs show Christian women with headcoverings on. One hundred and fifty years after the Paul wrote to the Corinthian church, early church father Tertullian writes this: “In fact, at this day the Corinthians do veil their virgins. What the apostles taught, their disciples approve.” The veil was worn by Christian women in Northern Europe during the fifth through the eleventh centuries. The Catholic Church has long held to the tradition of wearing the veil, as have many Protestant streams, including Anabaptism. From the first century up until now, many theologians have affirmed a current practice of the headcovering, including, but not limited to:

Irenaeus, Clement of Alexandria, Tertullian, Hippolytus, Ambrosiaster, John Chrysostom, Jerome, Severian of Gabala, Basil of Caesarea, Theodoret of Cyrus, Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, Guillaume Durand, Heinrich Von Langenstein, Hugh Latimer, Martin Luther, John Knox, John Calvin (for the young, restless, reformed crowd), David Dickerson, John Cotton, Anthony Sparrow, George Gillespie, William Quelch, John Bunyan, Matthew Henry, Johnathan Edwards, John Wesley, Roger Williams, Petrus Nakskow, Frederick Godet, A. R. Fausset, M. R. Vincent, G. G. Findlay, Joseph Beet, William Tyndale, C. C. Walker, A. T. Robertson, William Barclay, John Murray, Thomas Wall, J. Vernon McGee, Charles Ryrie, Charles Spurgeon, John Darby, Albert Oepke, Bruce Waltke, Robert Culver, Henry Morgan, Charles Coates, Watchman Nee, John Phillips, Milton Vincent, R. C. Sproul, R.C. Sproul Jr., Bruce Terry, and K. P. Yohannan.

This quote from R. C. Sproul to sum up:

Sproul | The wearing of fabric head coverings in worship was universally the practice of Christian women until the twentieth century. What happened? Did we suddenly find some biblical truth to which the saints for thousands of years were blind? Or were our biblical views of women gradually eroded by the modern feminist movement that has infiltrated the Church...?

Translation and the cringe factor

Yes. I get it.

It’s weird. It’s not normal to have a piece of fabric on top of your head. And for many women, it would make them cringe in public. Who am I, a guy who never has to worry about this, to say women should do one thing or another?

Fair enough.

So, some have asked, can we translate the physical symbol of the headcovering into something more meaningful in our culture? Wallace, for example, writes this:

Daniel B. Wallace | The early church practice of requiring the women to wear a head covering when praying or prophesying would not have been viewed as an unusual request. In the cosmopolitan cities of Asia Minor, Macedonia, and Greece, no one would feel out of place. Head coverings were everywhere ... Today, however, the situation is quite different, at least in the West. For a woman to wear a head covering would seem to be a distinctively humiliating experience. Many women—even biblically submissive wives—resist the notion precisely because they feel awkward and self-conscious. But the head covering in Paul’s day was intended only to display the woman’s subordination, not her humiliation. Today, ironically, to require a head covering for women in the worship service would be tantamount to asking them to shave their heads! The effect, therefore, would be just the opposite of what Paul intended. Thus, in attempting to fulfill the spirit of the apostle’s instruction, not just his words, some suitable substitute symbol needs to be found.

He has valid points. By definition, physical symbols allow some flexibility. When we partake of the Lord’s Supper, we cannot partake exactly in the manner that Jesus and His disciples did, nor can we baptize people in the Jordan River exactly like John did with Jesus. Also, nobody wants to humiliate women. Wallace suggests that perhaps a modest dress could function as a translation for the head covering; others have suggested that perhaps a wedding ring could stand in place of the head covering. However, while I sympathize with this view, I also would raise some issues:

  • It doesn’t seem that the symbol of the head covering is meant to be meaningful to the culture around us; only to those in the church. Paul does not seem concerned with the effect the covering will have on unbelievers, but on believers.
  • There seems to be a lack of suitable alternatives. The wedding ring option a) is hardly visible, b) would require all men not to wear wedding rings, and c) wouldn’t account for single women. A modest dress seems closer to the spirit of 1 Corinthians 11, but Paul seems pretty clear that something needs to be on the head, especially because the head is analogous with authority.
  • It would need to be a visible symbol immediately recognizable to Christian men and women, and to be uniform to all churches (11:16).
  • While it sounds harsh, humiliation is not always avoidable for Christians. Additionally, that which feels humiliating isn’t always. Growing up, the family rule happened to be that little Driver boys were not to wear shorts. Also, while swimming, we were often required to wear shirts as well in order to be modest. I remember feeling very humiliated when I was the only who wore pants while my friends were wearing shorts, or the only one wearing a shirt while swimming. But I soon came to realize that I was only humiliated because of my own self-consciousness—my friends weren’t teasing me, I just felt odd. I’m not saying that women would never receive humiliation from any outside sources, but I am saying that I think we as Christians have the power to stand graciously in the face of humiliation.

Nevertheless, there is always the ever present danger of requiring too much from the biblical text. Paul doesn’t specify the size, length, color, transparency, texture, shape, etc. of the head covering. Is it possible to have different types and styles of head coverings? Certainly, I think. Would a headband make a suitable headcovering? What about a handkerchief? Or a hat? Perhaps even a modest dress?

I leave it to the discretion of the reader.

Why the kiss is not the covering

Perhaps the most common question that is raised in response to an applicable view of the headcovering is the question of the holy kiss: which is mentioned four times in the New Testament:

Romans 16:16 | Greet one another with a holy kiss. All the churches of Christ send you greetings.
1 Corinthians 16:20 | All the brothers greet you. Greet one another with a holy kiss.
2 Corinthians 13:12 | Greet one another with a holy kiss. All the saints greet you.
1 Thessalonians 5:26 | Greet all the brothers with a holy kiss.

The question is this: If you hold the headcovering to be applicable today, than why do you not also hold the holy kiss to be applicable today? Both are New Testament commands given to believers by Paul. It would seem inconsistent to hold to one without also holding to the other. Additionally, if you use cultural arguments to avoid practicing the holy kiss (which is mentioned four times in the Bible), than aren’t you simply failing to hear your own words spoken against cultural arguments when it comes to the headcovering (which is only mentioned once)?

However, I think there are several indications that come from the text itself and not from an extraneous knowledge of surrounding culture:

  • First, however, even though I do think there are textual indications, just for the record, it seems much more likely that a kiss of greeting was a more common cultural practice than the practice of simultaneous female-head-covering/male-head-uncovering.
  • Second, if a Christian brother sincerely wished to greet me with a holy kiss, I would not turn him down. The burden of proof always lies with the one who holds that a mandate given is not applicable today, rather than the one who holds that it is.
  • Thirdly, though the holy kiss is mentioned four times, the sum of the statements is only four verses, much different than the cohesive, unbroken fifteen verse prose given for the head covering.
  • Fourthly, Paul actually gives a logically ordered argument with six reasons for the headcovering (none of which are rooted in culture), which strongly suggests that he did not, in fact, primarily ground his reasoning from culture there. Meanwhile, he gives no reasons for the holy kiss, which suggests that he may have, in fact, primarily ground his reasoning in culture.
  • Fifthly, Paul always gives the command to greet one another with the holy kiss and the end of his letters (yet before his benedictions, which are often universal), while the outline for the headcovering is laid out right in the middle of his letter. This accords with how we naturally understand teaching to be communicated to us, whatever the medium, (whether through letter, sermon, or recorded audio). For example, think of a pastor preaching a sermon. The meat of his content is in the middle of his sermon, and he probably intends it to be applicable to all audiences everywhere. Now imagine if at the end, he says: “Let’s pray now for the fellowship meal. I want you to form four orderly lines when you go downstairs.” Even a child understands that the pastor is not saying that everyone everywhere has a moral obligation to form four orderly lines whenever they happen to go downstairs, but rather, his directive is only applicable to the here and now.
  • Sixthly, along this similar vein, the context which surrounds the directives to practice the holy kiss suggests that Paul means for his message to be received by his immediate audience. For example, note some verses which appear close to the holy kiss directives at the end of Paul’s letters: “So you should welcome her [Phoebe] in the Lord in a manner worthy of the saints and assist her in whatever matter she may require your help” (Rm 16:2a). “Greet Philologus and Julia, Nereus and his sister, and Olympas, and all the saints who are with them” (Rm 16:5). “The report of your obedience has reached everyone” (Rm 16:19). “On the first day of the week, each of you is to set something aside and save in keeping with how he prospers, so that no collections will need to be made when I come” (1Co 16:2). “The churches of Asia greet you. Aquila and Priscilla greet you warmly in the Lord, along with the church that meets in their home” (1Co 16:19). “This is why I am writing these things while absent, that when I am there I will not use severity” (2Co 13:10a). “Brothers, pray for us also” (1Th 5:25). “I charge you by the Lord that this letter be read to all the brothers” (1Th 5:27). It is clear that none of these verses directly apply to us today.
  • On the flip side, the similarly sustained arguments found in the middle of 1 Corinthians, surrounding the argument for the head covering, suggest that Paul intends his message in a more universal manner: The need for church discipline of immoral members (1Co 5). The prohibition against lawsuits among believers (1Co 6:1-11). The directive for sexual purity (1Co 6:12-20). The mutual interdependence and honor given in marriage (1Co 7:1-16). Directions for single Christians (1Co 7:25-40). The right of church leaders to take a wife and a salary and their call to be an example (1Co 9). The warning against idolatry (1Co 10:1-13). The physical symbol of the headcovering (1Co 11:2-16). The physical symbol of the Lord’s Supper (1Co 11:17-33). Spiritual gifts (1Co 12). Love (1Co 13). Prophecy (1Co 14). The necessity of the resurrection (1Co 15). These sections do apply to us today.

Of course, there will be commands that we take as universal next to the holy kiss directives (see Rm 16:17-18, 20, 24; 1Co 16:13-14, 22-23; 2Co 13:11, 13; 1Th 5:12-24, 28). And there will be sustained arguments which contain cultural elements (like food offered to idols: 1Co 8; 10:14-33), but on the whole, we recognize solely from the text that Paul’s directive to greet one another with a holy kiss is much different than his directive to practice the covering or uncovering of the head.

Why is it all important?

Ok, Josiah. You’ve covered a very large span. You’ve gone from a high-profile Christian music artist to an agnostic feminist to divine fiction to the Garden of Eden to Junia to Lebron James to the headcovering to the holy kiss. And while women and men are being oppressed everywhere, and social injustice is happening on a national scale, and people are sick, cruel, and depraved towards one another—you’re worried about making sure women put a piece of fabric on their heads?

I do not deny that many of the world’s women have suffered sometimes terrible abuse at the hands of men. I do not deny that men have selfishly used their physical strength and often greater rank to hurt and even humiliate women. And of course I do not deny that we should try to help these women.

But I do deny that feminism is the answer. I am concerned about the philosophy we employ when doing so. Because, you see, I am convinced that to rescue women and children out of abusive patriarchy and into feminism...

...is only to take them out of one form of slavery and place them in another.

It is only to rescue them from the abuse of male-headship in order to place them into the abuse of femininity. Rather than to bring healing and wholesomeness, it is to reinforce their conclusions that there are no men whom they can trust to protect them, to lead them, to love them. It is to reinforce their conclusions that they cannot, at whatever the cost, be vulnerable—they must be strong, independent, unbreakable. It is to tell them that they cannot enjoy the delicacy, gracefulness, and muliebrity that so mysteriously distinguishes their gender from its opposite and makes them unique, but rather must seek to attain power, authority, and prestige at all costs, even if it means sacrificing that distinction which is so inherently valuable in them.

It is to release them from enslavement to others, only to enslave them to themselves.

R. J. Rushdooney | The alternative to submission is exploitation, not freedom, because there is no true freedom in anarchy. The purpose of submission is not to degrade women in marriage, nor to degrade men in society, but to bring to them their best prosperity and peace under God's order. In a world of authority, the submission of the wife is not in isolation, nor in a vacuum. It is set in a context of submission by men to authority; in such a world, men teach the principles of authority to their sons and daughters and work to instill in them the responsibilities of authority and obedience. In such a world, interdependence and service prevail. In a world of moral anarchy, there is neither submission to authority nor service, which is a form of submission. (emphasis mine)

In a culture where civil-rights is king, and “equality” is increasingly becoming the mantra under which to stand, the Bible’s words have also become increasing prevalent. Among all the differences among humans today and in history, we are reminded that there was only one difference ordained by God at creation:

The difference between a man and a woman.

And it is only when we abide by biblical role distinctions that we will know true freedom as men and women. Our culture has long endured the erosion of these differences. One generation has chinked away the ordinance of the headcovering; never in a million years intending to undermine the foundation for male-female role distinctions. The next generation chipped away a little more; doing away with male-female role distinctions, never intending to open the door to same-sex marriage. Our generation has knocked away the distinction between men and women sexually, though we would never intend, of course, to open the door for bestiality or “intergenerational love” (pedophilia). Do we really think that the generation following us will be “responsible” with how we’ve treated the Bible, and not let it “get out of hand?” Do we really expect the following generation not to learn from our example?

(Yes, it’s a slippery slope argument. I don’t care. Our culture is sliding, scrambling, and tumbling down a slippery slope, only catching our breath long enough to yell: “Slippery slope argument! Slippery slope!”)

Taylor Cadwell notes: “The strongest sign of the decay of a nation is the feminization of men and the masculinization of women.”

This is why it’s so important.

And just to show that I’m not against women, I’ll end with two quotes from a very talented, spiritual, and gracious one:

Elisabeth Elliot | It is a naive sort of feminism that insists that women prove their ability to do all the things that men do. This is a distortion and a travesty. Men have never sought to prove that they can do all the things women do. Why subject women to purely masculine criteria? Women can and ought to be judged by the criteria of femininity, for it is in their femininity that they participate in the human race. And femininity has its limitations. So has masculinity. That is what we’ve been talking about. To do this is not to do that. To be this is not to be that. To be a woman is not to be a man. To be married is not to be single - which may mean not to have a career. To marry this man is not to marry all the others. A choice is a limitation. (emphasis mine)

Elisabeth Elliot | To me, a lady is not frilly, flouncy, flippant, frivolous and fluff-brained, but she is gentle, she is gracious, she is godly and she is giving. You and I have the gift of femininity... the more womanly we are, the more manly men will be and the more God is glorified. Be women, be only women, be real women in obedience to God.

A Rather Boring "Brief" on a Rather Controversial Topic (Part 3 of 4)


In church leadership

1 Timothy 2:8-15 | Therefore, I want the men in every place to pray, lifting up holy hands without anger or argument. Also, the women are to dress themselves in modest clothing, with decency and good sense, not with elaborate hairstyles, gold, pearls, or expensive apparel, but with good works, as is proper for women who affirm that they worship God. A woman should learn in silence with full submission. I do not allow a woman to teach or to have authority [authentein] over a man; instead, she is to be silent. For Adam was created first, then Eve. And Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and transgressed. But she will be saved through childbearing, if she continues in faith, love, and holiness, with good judgment.

Paul does not have faulty logic here; He is not deceived. His appeal to the Old Testament is not “poor exegesis”—since it is God himself who is making this connection through Paul (2Tm 3:16), and thus this passage is not for our enslavement, but for our good.

Though Paul gives directions to men that apply to both genders (prayer), and gives directions to women that apply to both genders (modest dress, with a few indicative examples), yet he also gives commands specifically to women that are not general—that are not reciprocal, since he details the female role as it interacts with the male role (v. 11); they are “not to have authority over a man.” Women are to learn in silence with full submission. This is not a command given to men. The word for silence here, hesuchia, means “quietness, stillness, tranquility, or peacefulness.” It differs from sige, which refers to speechlessness (Thus, in 1 Thessalonians 3:12, for example, hesuchia is translated, “work in quiet fashion”). Paul affirms that women are to maintain a peaceful, submissive demeanor in the presence of male leadership. (Interestingly enough, the two prohibitions for women here, teaching and authoritative leadership, are two things required of church elders that are not required of church deacons. See 1Tm 3:2,5; 5:17; Ti 1:9; Ac 20:28).

It is also argued that the word authentein means “assume or usurp authority [wrongly]” as opposed to the simple exercise of authority—thus, Paul would only be prohibiting women from taking authority for themselves. This argument presents problems, however. First, it is doubtful that this is what the word means, partly since this meaning is derived from looking at two separate parts of the Greek word (try looking at the two separate parts of ‘butterfly’ to make a conclusion as to what the word means), and also since similar Greek word usage around that time doesn’t seem to indicate that nuance. Second, even if the word were to mean that, it would be an argument from silence, since it quietly assumes that Paul was okay with women being granted authority. In actuality, with straight-faced honesty to the context, might not Paul have considered all female authority here, whether “taken” or “granted”, to be usurpation?

It is true that there was false teaching occurring at Ephesus (1Tm 1:4-6; 6:4-5), and that women were being deceived by this false teaching (1Tm 5:15; 2Tm 3:6-7). Some might argue that because of this, Paul’s prohibition only applies to the women in this particular church, since they were tainted in some way or another by false teaching. But Paul never gives this as a reason. Paul lays down this ordinance with an appeal to creation, not the current winds of culture. We find further evidence that this is not a church-specific command in Paul’s first letter to the Corinthian church:

1 Corinthians 14:33b-36 | As in all the churches of the saints, the women should be silent in the churches, for they are not permitted to speak, but should be submissive, as the law also says. And if they want to learn something, they should ask their own husbands at home, for it is disgraceful for a woman to speak in the church meeting. Or did the word of God originate from you, or did it come to you only?

This passage speaks so strongly against an evangelical feminist view that many commentators have simply opted to call it an interpolation—or an editorial addition that was not part of the inspired text. While it is true that this section is found in different places in the original manuscripts (for example, after verse 40), this argument conveniently forgets to mention one rather potent fact: Not a single known manuscript omits this text. Every single manuscript that we have repeats Paul’s directive here to women. If there were such a manuscript with the omission, rest assured we would hear about it.

It is also argued that the text up to verse 35 is simply a quote or saying of the Corinthian church that Paul refutes in verse 36 with: “Or [or what!] did the word of God originate from you, or did it come to you only?” The first problem with this argument is that it is extremely volatile and dangerous. Might, then, anybody just argue that anything they don’t like in Paul’s letters is simply a “quote” which Paul then disproves? Regardless, the participle used for “or” here, é, does not disprove what comes before it, but simply offers another thing for the reader to consider, should they deny the first part (for example, 1 Corinthians 6:8-9: “you yourselves cheat and do wrong, and you do this to your brothers and sisters. Or [i.e., if you deny the truth of that], do you not know that wrongdoers will not inherit the kingdom of God?”).

Paul (and therefore God) is sincerely promoting this teaching. What type of silence are the women to observe? The words translated “silent” in this passage, sigato, mean “to keep silent, to hold one’s peace.” Additionally, we read that the women “are not permitted to speak.” How are the women to hold their peace? Is all “audible participation” (for lack of a better term) prohibited?

Probably not. It seems likely that instead there are specific things, or areas in which women are not to speak. Attempting to let Scripture interpret itself, we read in 1 Corinthians 11:5 that not all “audible participation” is prohibited for women; rather prophesy and prayer are valid options. Another helpful verse in which sigato is used is verse 28: “But if there is no interpreter, that person should keep silent in the church and speak to himself and to God.” Here, the prophet is also told to keep silent and not to speak, but one could hardly suggest that he was never to make verbal noise in church (singing, praying, etc.), since in verse 27, speaking was a viable option for him. Rather, we understand that he was to keep silent about that particular thing of which he was going to speak; he was to keep silent in a particular area.

And this is the question we ask of women as well: In what area are they not to speak? What types of speech are prohibited?

First, in verse 34, Paul directly contrasts “they are not permitted to speak” with “but should be submissive”, indicating that women are not to speak in a manner that jeopardizes their own submission; i.e., by speaking in the authoritative arena. Secondly, in verse 35, they are not to speak with the raising of objections or questions, but rather to learn with a spirit of stillness. This affirms 1 Timothy 2:11: “A woman should learn in silence with full submission.” In opposition to much feminist scholarship, Paul does not promote male headship out of a belief that women are unintelligent or uneducated; rather he affirms the intelligence and learning ability of women, but along with that, holds that the women are to learn in a manner becoming to them—in a manner that graces them, not disgraces them.

In familial leadership

Perhaps the clearest, most eloquent text on male-leadership in the home is found in Paul’s letter to the church at Ephesus:

Ephesians 5:21-33 | Submit [hypotasso] to one another in the fear of Christ. Wives, submit [hypotasso] to your own husbands as to the Lord, for the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church. He is the Savior of the body. Now as the church submits to Christ, so wives are to submit to their husbands in everything. Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave Himself for her to make her holy, cleansing her with the washing of water by the word. He did this to present the church to Himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or anything like that, but holy and blameless. In the same way, husbands are to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. For no one ever hates his own flesh but provides and cares for it, just as Christ does for the church, since we are members of His body. “For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.” This mystery is profound, but I am talking about Christ and the church. To sum up, each one of you is to love his wife as himself, and the wife is to respect her husband.

Paul’s general command of submission among the body of Christ (cf. Php 2:3-4) does not negate the unique command he gives to women. In a similar fashion, Paul commands young men to be subject to elders: “In the same way, you younger men, be subject to the elders. And all of you clothe yourselves with humility toward one another” (1Pt 5:5). We understand that young men are to be subject to the elders in a way in which the elders do not reciprocate, even though all are to act humbly toward one another.

Likewise, wives are to submit to their husbands in a way that husbands do not reciprocate. Of the word hypotasso, Wayne Grudem says: “the term ... always implies a relationship of submission to an authority. It is used elsewhere in the New Testament of the submission of Jesus to the authority of His parents (Luke 2:51); of demons being subject to the disciples (Luke 10:17-clearly the meaning “act in love, be considerate” cannot fit here); of citizens being subject to governing authorities (Romans 13:1, 5; Titus 3:1; 1 Peter 2:13); of the universe being subject to Christ (1 Corinthians 15:27; Ephesians 1:22); of unseen spiritual powers being subject to Christ (1 Peter 3:22); of Christ being subject to God the Father (1 Corinthians 15:28); of church members being subject to church leaders (1 Corinthians 16:15-16 [with 1 Clement 42:4]; 1 Peter 5:5); of wives being subject to their husbands (Colossians 3:18; Titus 2:5; 1 Peter 3:5; cf. Ephesians 5:22-24); of the church being subject to Christ (Ephesians 5:24); of servants being subject to their masters (Titus 2:9; 1 Peter 2:18); and of Christians being subject to God (Hebrews 12:9; James 4:7). Note that none of these relationships is ever reversed; that is, husbands are never told to be subject to wives, nor government to citizens, masters to servants, disciples to demons, etc. In fact, the term is used outside the New Testament to describe the submission and obedience of soldiers in an army to those of superior rank” (emphasis mine).

Wives are commanded to “submit themselves.” Men are not called to make women submit. We were not created for that. We were created to love women and to lead them to spiritual holiness. Again, the analogy between the relationship of a husband and wife and that of Christ and the church is undeniable; and again, this analogy displays that the commandments Paul is laying out here are not just cultural compromises but universal principles based on divine relationship structures. Christ is clearly in authority over the church, and Christ just as clearly loves the church with His whole being, since He “gave Himself for her to make her holy.”

Again, true biblical headship does not give men a free, easy pass. Paul spends more time commanding the men to love than he does the women to submit! In sum, Paul identifies the unique facets of the marriage relationship: The man is to sacrificially love his wife as Christ loved the church, and the woman is to respectfully submit to her husband as the church respects Christ. This summation Paul affirms in Colossians:

Colossians 3:18-19 | Wives, be submissive to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives and don’t be bitter toward them.

Paul was not the only apostle who affirmed the holiness of female submission and male leadership:

1 Peter 3:1-7 | In the same way, wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands so that, even if some disobey the Christian message, they may be won over without a message by the way their wives live when they observe your pure, reverent lives. Your beauty should not consist of outward things like elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold ornaments or fine clothes. Instead, it should consist of what is inside the heart with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very valuable in God’s eyes. For in the past, the holy women who put their hope in God also beautified themselves in this way, submitting to their own husbands, just as Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him lord. You have become her children when you do what is good and are not frightened by anything alarming. Husbands, in the same way, live with your wives with an understanding of their weaker nature yet showing them honor as coheirs of the grace of life, so that your prayers will not be hindered.

In verse 1, Peter says “in the same way.” In the same way as what? In verses 13-14 of the previous chapter, we are told “Submit to every human authority because of the Lord, whether to the Emperor as the supreme authority or to governors as those sent out by him to punish those who do what is evil and to praise those who do what is good,” and in verses 18-19: “Household slaves, submit with all fear to your masters, not only to the good and gentle but also to the cruel. For it brings favor if, mindful of God’s will, someone endures grief from suffering unjustly.” The question is raised: If the church does not tell slaves to submit to their masters today, why should we tell wives to submit to their husbands today? But this negates the broader context of the issue: Paul and the other writers of the New Testament didn’t assume that the institution of slavery was good, but only gave instructions to individuals on how to act in and among the institution of slavery.

Paul and the other New Testament writers, however, do assume that the institution of marriage is very good. In fact, it has its roots in creation, while slavery does not. It is instructive to note that the word used for “in the same way,” or “likewise,” is not kathos, which means “just, or exactly as”, but homoiós, which means “in a similar manner.” Paul, after giving instruction on individual submission in one institution—that of slavery—then starts in on a related (in some aspects but very different in others) matter: submission in marriage.

Far from only being applicable in the New Testament era, this passage answers many questions pertinent in today’s world about male headship:

  • Is male-headship just a guise to force all women to have to obey anything any man says? No, wives are to submit “to your own husbands.”
  • Is female submission in marriage based on a belief that men are spiritually superior to women? No, wives are to submit, “even if some disobey the Christian message.”
  • Isn’t telling women to live in a quiet manner shutting off their opportunity to be a witness? No, rather, speech is not always to most effective way to evangelize: “they may be won over without a message by the way their wives live when they observe your pure, reverent lives.”
  • Doesn’t submission make women ugly and undesirable? No. In our culture today, most female beauty “consists of outward things like elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold ornaments or fine clothes.” But this beauty is false. True beauty “consists of what is inside the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very valuable in God’s eyes.” The example of Sarah is very pertinent—Peter knew what he was doing when he picked her as an example: Sarah evidently had physical beauty, to say the least, attracting the eye of a king (Gn 20:2) and arousing Abraham’s fear multiple times that he would be killed by men who desired her. Yet it is revealing that Peter does not refer to this beauty. Rather, he says that her beauty came from her submissive spirit—from the way she submitted to her husband.
  • Doesn’t submission make women wimps? No, rather “you have become her children when you do what is good and are not frightened by anything alarming.”

Again, male-headship requires men to act honorably as well. Husbands are to “live with your wives with an understanding of their weaker nature.” The woman’s weaker nature is evident in that they are placed in a disadvantageous position: The husband can more easily domineer the wife than the wife can domineer the husband—first, because she is often physically weaker than he is, and secondly, because his position of authority can be more easily abused towards domineering than hers can.

Additionlly, Paul makes sure to mention that even though women have a functional role difference with men, yet they are ontologically equal with men—they are “coheirs of the grace of life” (7). The parallels between this verse and Galatians 3:28-29 are strong:

Galatians 3:28-29 | There is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, heirs according to the promise.

When it comes to ontological worth and equality, neither gender is more than the other. Just because the husband has a position of real authority over his wife does not mean that he can treat her as a lesser Christian—as somehow less in God’s eyes. Rather, he must show her honor as a joint heir of salvation. The door to salvation is open to her just as it is open to him. In fact, you don’t have to be Jew, you don’t have to be Greek, you don’t have to be male, you don’t have to be female, you don’t have to be a slave, and you don’t have to be free. All receive salvation as joint heirs equally.