implications

Where does my last post lead?

1. I'm not sure. It leads me to a certain humble uncertaintly about a lot of things. In particular, on the proxmiate issue of "women's ministry", I think I can sympathize with just about every position taken by others - certainly the integrity of those who hold a particular point of view, even if I find a lot of those perspectives problematic.
2. More generally, it leaves me concerned. Can the methodology lead to anything other than a rather nihilistic subjective relativism? Is that not problematic? It might not be, but it takes work to integrate it into my understanding of truth and God. I haven't got there yet.
3. On the other hand, I know that it does fit into my broad understanding of God's truth: if people ask what is "allowed" and what is "commanded" by the New Testament, I always feel that they need to re-read Galatians. But I probably do, too :-).

how I learned to stop worring (long post)

This blog post has been a long time coming, but I must delay it no more. It should be in my "formative influences" series, but I've lost track of the numbers... I think it significant more for the methodological conclusions than from the particular matter at hand - but that is itself rather important, too.

So, what did I stop worrying about? Well, women. No, not like that. Women's ministry, if you want that phrase, is my topic here.

First, the context: I grew up, as I've said, in an Open Brethren church (assembly, ok). Hat-wearing was on the way out, but when it came to "open participation", of which we had lots, the women didn't get to say anything. Unless it was a home bible study. Like a good evangelical I wrestled with the new testament texts, weighing one against another, but struggled to work out how that position could make sense. Requiring women to wear hats seemed anachronistic, but was there in the text as plain as the "must keep slient" bit. (Yes, you could argue about the nature of the head-covering, but that's a cultural digression, really). I came to my own view that if we were to encultureize the one, we should do the same for the other. On the other hand, I kind-of agreed with Michael Green (I forget which book) that whatever the New Testament texts meant, they rather implied that women should not hold the ultimate authority - by which, I largely mean the normative teaching role - in the assembly.

I never saw that as a deeply profound or important position. I could see that it affected certain women rather strongly ( :-) ), but it wasn't going to cause me to make or break fellowship with anyone. When the church fellowship I belonged to as an undergraduate split over the issue of women participating in open worship, I took the default position, which was to stay with the "no" people. But soon afterwards, I joined fellowships which periodically had women in the pulpit, and, indeed, in leadership.

All in all, I guess you could say my position, on my reading of scripture, was a "weak complimentarian" position. Weak, on two counts: I saw no obstacle to women leading worship, prayer, and so forth, only to normative (doctrine-espousing) preaching and leadership, and secondly, weak in the sense that when encountering the latter I was going to generally grin and bear it - perhaps to the point of deciding not to listen to the sermon, rather than accidentally not doing so :-). With all my heart, I wanted to believe something different - namely that in the late 20th century men and women were all called together to the work of the kingdom, and we should make no distinction - but I couldn't, in honesty, find it in scriputre to believe that, so I lived with that tension.

That came to a head somewhat when I was invited to join the leadership of my local church. As a regular member, I didn't have to go along with everything the church did. But I felt that as a leader, I couldn't endorse the ministry of women preaching, nor among the leadership, so it seemed wise to decline.

But by the second time I was asked, I was in the middle of learning about this crazy band of people who might go under the banner of "emerging church", or variations on that theme. Not only was what they were doing culturally relevant, it also began to imply a very different kind of postmodern exegesis of scripture. Being an academic, that kind of line of thinking wasn't totally alien to me - though my part of science has yet to grasp hold of it entirely. But I began to see (and I think I am still only beginning) how to apply that thinking to the way I read scripture: not as a rejection of Evangelical principles, but a development of them.

That does mean placing more weight on the culture in and into which the original text was written. And, indeed, it means realising that we don't always know as much as we'd like about that culture. For that matter, it means realising that many of the cherished ways of interpreting things are a matter of tradition alone: oft repetition really doesn't make them true.

So, on the matter of women's ministry, here's where I've ended up. Would Paul, in his day, have been dismissive of women in leadership and preaching? Yes, it seems so, at least in some places, at some times. Would Paul expect his teaching to last for all time? Most probably, yes. Would he therefore be upset with the practice of [my group of] Christians today? More than likely. Would he be right about that? No. So, right now, here, is there any problem with men and women sharing equally in all Kingdom activity? None at all.

The fourth question and answer is the kicker, as far as evangelicalism is concerned. What reason have I to reach such a conclusion? Why, the whole revelation of God. Faith, reason, scripture. We do lip-service to the idea that the bible needs interpreting, isn't simply a rule-book, isn't akin to the ever-unchanging Koran. But too frequently we fail to embrace what that really means. The Evangelical custom has been to take the text and twist it until it means what we want it to, even to the point of making a reading which plainly wasn't in the mind of the original author. Of course, finding meaning which wasn't known to the writer is a valid interpretative method (it applies, after all, to much OT prophecy), but to go so far as to say that that meaning is normative seems, well, several steps too far. I'm much happier with a "that was then; this is now" argument, even though it feels more tentative and provisional; less grounded.

I could be wrong, I know. But I have peace. I haven't stopped seeking after truth, and I don't think I've properly grasped the extent and shape of this. But I have stopped worrying.

I'm a mechanic

So www.typealyzer.com says I'm a mechanic. My blog represents the independent, problem-solving type.

So there you are.

life affirmed

There's something terribly life-affirming about this news from the BBC:

Down's births rise despite tests

More Down's syndrome babies are being born than before pre-natal screening became widespread, figures show. The UK saw 749 Down's births in 2006, up from 717 in 1989 when tests came in.

I'm not a parent. I don't have close friends or family who have the joys and pains of children with disabilities or learning difficulties. So in many ways I'm not qualified to pass comment on others' decisions.

But there is something there which lifts the soul, and gives you confidence that actually our shared sense of morality as a society is not completely unravelling. The article is woeful because it doesn't count the number of abortions, or miscarriages, or whatever, and the "rise" is probably not statistically significant. Affirming human life is good; learning to care for the weak and the needy, and the just plain different, is a way we show the spark of God's image in us.

when is a church not a church?

A recent post by Dan Kimball set me thinking. He talks about an increasing trend for multi-site churches, whether linked by video sermons, or connected in some other way.

I remarked upon this pattern at Mars Hill in Seattle, back in July, with further reflections on using video, later. I had no idea it was so widespread. It seems most curious. If you have a bunch of people who meet at separate locations, and interact with each other firstly on the basis of where they meet, and you put together a group of those, you don't have a church, you have a denomination. "Bishop Mark" sounds altogether more grand than "Pastor Mark", don't you think?

Why would you do this? Well, if you're planting churches, they will tend to retain ties to the mother church for a little while. But surely the whole point of the mother-daughter picture is that you aim for maturity and eventual independence in the latter.

I'm fearful that the biggest reason for such arrangements - especially where video is involved - is the cult of the lead preacher. On the one hand, it makes eminent sense that those who are particularly gifted in teaching should do more of it, and share their gift using whatever modern technology is available. On the other hand, the notion of a "teaching pastor" - somewhat cut off from day-to-day interactions with the flock, and devoted only to preaching - seems alarming and very much a mistake. All the more so when that teaching is promulgated largely through high definition video, or to a huge auditorium where the preacher cannot see the whites of the eyes of the flock.

Having quite so many people beholden to one man (it always seems to be a man) seems calculated to end in tears. Even if he is the most sainted, prophetic individual alive, what will happen when his ministry comes to an end? Will he be replaced by another, in an office-bearing kind of way? Or will the whole personality cult disintegrate? "It is not good for man to be alone" applies very much to those who would teach, as well as its original reference.

Perhaps I'm just sensitized to the dangers of one-man-ministry, the unnecessary weight of denominations, and the need for plurality in leadership because I've just finished Frank Viola's book. But then, I have to confess that I have come to doubt his methodology: the New Testament gives us a pattern for what church ought to be like, most probably - a church in the first century Mediterranean culture. Precisely how much that tells us about how church ought to be in our culture is, I think, debatable. But it seems most, most unwise to eschew denominations on the one hand, and almost accidentally to create new ones on the other.

review: Reimagining Church

Reimagining church
Frank Viola


I never bothered to read Viola's earlier book, Pagan Christianity, which was the talk of the bologosphere about a year ago. From the reviews I saw, I expected that I would know much of what he had to say, already. I looked forward to this book, though, as a much more positive offering. The previous book, if you like, set out what had gone wrong with the church; here, Reimagining church: pursing the dream of organic Chtistianity would surely reset the balance by suggesting what to do about it.

Well, it does. Sort of. The trouble is, I had an overwhelming sense of déja vu. For in chapter after chapter, as if he is describing something new, Viola describes to near perfection the tradition I grew up with. That's generally known as the "Christian Brethren", a decidedly vague name, on account of how that group (if it can be called a group) has never sought a name, or an identity, or any kind of denominational structure. In a sense, it's no surprise that Viola should rediscover Bretheren ecclesiology: after all, in the early chapters he warmly quotes F. F. Bruce, who was for most of his life a leading member of a Brethren assembly.

So, the book takes us through the reasons for Christians meeting together, the centrality of the Lord's supper, the open participation of all believers [ok, so for the Brethren, "all" has tended to mean "all men". Things have moved on], pluarality of leadership, elders as emerging gifted indivduals, not office-holders, consensus as a means of assembly decision-making, and so on. If you picked up any text on Brethren distinctives, you would find exactly the same stuff - even to the repeated phrase of "being gathered to Christ alone".

One point of divergence, perhaps, is that Viola stresses the value of meeting in homes rather than set-aside sancturaies: togetherness, rather than pews facing a pulpit (or altar, if you're of a higher church persusaion): Brethren have often - and in recent years, particularly - tended to own premises for the assembly to meet in, but frequently will meet "in the round" rather than in traditional church format.

So what shall I make of Viola's suggestion that this is how church should be? Well, the Brethren movement, if we shall call it that, has lasted some 170 years, but is becoming close to defunct: those that kept their distinctives have mostly whithered away; those who have embraced other ideas are often indistinguishable from other free churches (with notable exceptions). Part of me is thrilled to see these ideas rehearsed afresh, because I have held many of them very dear for a long time; part of me is disarmed, to say the least, that they should be presented as if discovered for the first time. (If, dear reader, you want to see a sometimes tenuous argument that these ideas have been present throughout church history, you might try to lay your hands on the truly ponderous The Pilgrim Church, by E. H. Broadbent. You should buy a case of Red Bull at the same time.)

As regards content and presentation, the book is fairly easy to read, though frequent long quotes from other authors put me off, rather. The rhetoric is over-blown at times, giving rise to some questionable bits of theology: even though I tend to find the conclusions sound, the argument is sometimes rather dodgy.

This is stuff that I feel as if I know a great deal about, in theory and in practice (what works, and what does not). I'm going to have to look for other reivews of this book, I can see...

and where does it lead?

A footnote to my post of yesterday: one of Sweden's parties proposes that as part of its new gay marriage law, pastors should be compelled to officiate at gay weddings, or at no weddings at all.

That might seem an unwelcome interference with church matters, were it not for the blindingly obvious question of why the church is in a position to be dictated to by parliament anyway. Surely the problem, if there is one, is with the relationship of the church with the state, or even with the notion of pastors anyway. [I've been reading Frank Viola's Reimagining Church lately, which takes a particularly hard line on such topics.]

There are some other complexities to the argument, of course - such as which kind of discrimination trumps which other kind. But that wasn't the point I wanted to raise.