One might consider as perhaps the 
      strongest proof of a proposition being evident the fact that even the one 
      who contradicts it finds himself obliged at the same time to employ it. 
      For example, if someone should contradict the proposition that there is a 
      universal statement that is true, it is clear that he must assert the 
      contrary, and say: No universal statement is true. Slave, this is not 
      true, either. For what else does this assertion amount to than: If a 
      statement is universal, it is false? (Epictetus, a first-century 
      A.D. 
      Stoic philosopher, in Discourses 2.20.1-3 [LCL])
        
      VIA’S
      HERMENEUTICAL PRESUPPOSITIONS 
      The reader can boil down 
      Via’s case for affirming homoerotic behavior to four main hermeneutical 
      presuppositions or “unwavering commitments”: 
      
        - There are no moral 
        absolutes—except the unacknowledged absolute that there are no absolutes. 
        There will always be contextual situations that require the church to 
        endorse some forms of every behavior that the united and strong witness 
        of Scripture regards as intrinsically wrong. Following from this point, 
        he believes:
        - There are no 
        structural prerequisites for sexual intercourse—not for gender, 
        number of partners, blood relatedness, age, or species. All forms of 
        sexual arrangement must be accepted, at least (a) so long as the 
        participants claim that they act out of consent, love, and commitment, 
        and (b) unless it can be scientifically proven that the form of sexual 
        union in question produces measurable harm, such as permanent personal 
        distress or health problems, to all participants in all circumstances.
        
        - Biology equals 
        destiny, and destiny must be actualized in the gratification 
        of biological urges.
        - Core values in 
        Scripture exert no special authority over the life of Christians. 
        Christians who give lip service to the belief that the Bible is “the 
        highest authority for Christians in theological and ethical matters” can 
        override values in Scripture that are pervasive, absolute, strong, and 
        countercultural as easily as they override values in Scripture that 
        share none of those attributes.
     Beneath these four 
      “pillars” of Via’s hermeneutics lay the ruins of Scripture and of the 
      Christian faith generally. At stake here is not just Scripture’s stance on 
      the particular issue of same-sex intercourse but an entire scriptural 
      vision regarding authority, morality, the paradigm of a cruciform life, 
      and the new creation in Christ. This is a classic example of how arguments 
      for validating homosexual practice strike at the core of Christian belief 
      and practice. Perhaps most astounding of all is that Via thinks that these 
      presuppositions are justifiable on biblical grounds, even though it is 
      historically obvious that Jesus and every author of Scripture would have 
      categorically rejected them. 
           I shall have more to 
      say about Via’s hermeneutical presuppositions after discussing Via’s 
      efforts at limiting our engagement of the issues.  
       
      LIMITED
      ENGAGEMENT 
      It is hard to take 
      seriously the claim that Via makes in the first sentence of his response; 
      namely, “I appreciate the opportunity for dialogue with Professor Gagnon” 
      (p. 93). For Via did his best to restrict such dialogue. 
      
      Via’s desire to limit interaction.
      Before either Via or I 
      had begun writing our responses to each other’s essay, I requested of 
      Michael West, editor-in-chief at Fortress Press, that we be given a 
      3000-4000 word ceiling for our responses—rather than 1500 words—and that 
      we be allowed 1500-word rejoinders to the other’s response. Michael was 
      open to these suggestions and forwarded them to Via. Via flatly rejected 
      both opportunities. Apparently Via was interested in limiting the extent 
      of our interaction rather than in maximizing such. 
      
       
      
      Problems with Via’s preparedness.
      Part of the reason may 
      be Via’s own lack of significant engagement with the issue of the Bible 
      and homosexuality. Via’s essay was based on two talks that he gave at an 
      adult Christian education class in a church. The essay that he originally 
      submitted to Fortress Press in August or September 2002 did not even make 
      use of my book, The Bible and 
      Homosexual Practice, 
      even though it had been out on the market for a full year. Only after it 
      became clear that Via’s essay would be included alongside one from me did 
      Via append some comments about my book. This explains why his use of my 
      book is fragmentary and why a number of his flawed exegetical and 
      hermeneutical claims remained in his essay without adjustment—including, 
      but not limited to, his misreading of Sodom, his claim that one need 
      override only a “few explicit biblical texts” (p. 39), and his blatant 
      ignoring of the strong evidence for Jesus’ embrace of an other-sex 
      prerequisite. In fact, it is evident from the final form of Via’s essay 
      that Via read very little of the first three chapters of my book on the 
      witness of the Old Testament, early Judaism, and Jesus (pp. 43-228). 
      Similarly, as regards chapter 4, “The Witness of Paul and Deutero-Paul” 
      (pp. 229-339), Via seems to have skimmed only a few pages on Romans 
      1:24-27—unaware even of the discussion of intertextual echoes to the 
      creation texts—and to have ignored entirely the material on 1 Corinthians 
      6:9 and 1 Timothy 1:10. As regards chapter 5 on “The Hermeneutical 
      Relevance of the Biblical Witness” (pp. 341-486), there is little or no 
      indication that he read sections 1, 2, and 5 (on the exploitation 
      argument, the misogyny argument, and “few texts” argument, respectively). 
      I do believe that he read the last five pages of the Introduction (pp. 
      37-41), portions of pp. 380-432 (on the sexual orientation argument), and 
      the last forty pages or so of my book—at most one-quarter of a book that 
      contains 466 pages of text.
           Judging from his 
      essay, the only other discussions of the Bible and homosexuality that he 
      read were the books by George Edwards and Robin Scroggs, the chapter 
      treatments in Victor Furnish’s The Moral Teaching of Paul and 
      Richard Hays’s The Moral Vision of the New Testament, and some of 
      the essays in Homosexuality, Science, and the “Plain Sense” of 
      Scripture (ed. David Balch) and in Biblical Ethics and 
      Homosexuality (ed. Robert Brawley). That’s it—six books directly 
      bearing on the subject, to which he belatedly and incompletely added my 
      book. Even the books by Thomas Schmidt, Bernadette Brooten, and Martti 
      Nissinen seem not to have been consulted. No wonder Via was not interested 
      in more extensive engagement.  
      Via’s short essay. 
      Along the same lines, although Via and I were both permitted 15,000 words 
      for our essays, Via turned in an essay of only 12,350 words (39 pages; 
      compare to my 52 pages plus extensive online notes). I can understand 
      writing only that amount if the publisher imposed a limit of 12,000 words. 
      However, it is strange indeed to impose on oneself a 12,000-word limit for 
      a huge topic like the Bible and homosexuality—a topic that easily merits 
      book-length treatment. It suggests that Via does not have that much to say 
      in defense of his position. 
       
      THE
      EXTREMISM
      OF NO 
      ABSOLUTES AND NO
      STRUCTURAL PREREQUISITES 
      Via and those who share 
      his absolutist hermeneutical presupposition that there are no absolutes 
      are as much extremists as conservatives who believe that everything in 
      Scripture is to be taken absolutely. Via’s stance reminds me of 
      Epictetus’s remarks nearly two thousand years ago (cited at the beginning 
      of this rejoinder). In denying absolutely even the possibility that there 
      might be moral absolutes, Via, despite himself, confirms that absolutes do 
      exist.  
      
      The reasonableness of some absolutes.
      Via tries 
      desperately to put me in the category of those who take all rules 
      absolutely when he claims that my position is that “there are no 
      contextual factors that can override or disqualify a rule” (qua rule, p. 
      94; second emphasis mine). He adds parenthetically “—against homosexual 
      practice,” yet his whole argument against me proceeds on the false 
      assumption that I deny categorically a role to contextual factors in 
      making exceptions to, or overriding, any rules. He makes the same claim in 
      his essay, when he alleges that Hays, Jones/Yarhouse, and I subscribe to 
      the following position: “There are no contextual situations that could 
      override a rule [qua rule] forbidding an act that the rule, by prior 
      determination, has designated as intrinsically immoral” (p. 21; emphasis 
      mine). Via likes this caricature so much that he repeats it verbatim when 
      focusing on my position (p. 27). 
           Via is beating a 
      straw dummy of his own making. The truth is that my position lies between 
      the twin extremes of “no absolutes” (held by Via, Wink, Brueggemann, Duff, 
      and others) and “all absolutes” (does anyone actually hold this latter 
      position?). Obviously, some proscriptions in Scripture do maintain 
      absolute force in our cultural context, while others do not. This 
      is also the biblical position. Even Via in the aforementioned quote from 
      pp. 21 and 27 concedes implicitly that Scripture does designate some acts 
      as “intrinsically immoral.” At the start of his response he acknowledges 
      that Scripture condemns homosexual practice “unconditionally” (p. 93). He 
      goes on to acknowledge that the Bible’s prohibition is “absolute,” that 
      is, exceptionless (p. 94). (As an aside, in view of this admission it is 
      surely contradictory that Via charges me in his essay with “absolutizing . 
      .  the biblical prohibition of all same-sex intercourse” [p. 27]. How can 
      I be charged with “absolutizing” an already absolute biblical prohibition? 
      For a focused discussion on whether the Bible regards same-sex intercourse 
      as intrinsically immoral, see Gagnon 2003, especially pp. 122-36.) 
      Moreover, it is well known that Scripture modifies some, but by no 
      means all, of its own rules (especially as one moves across Testaments). I 
      understand an “absolutist view of Scripture” to be one that takes 
      absolutely everything—or nothing—proscribed or prescribed in Scripture. 
      Scripture itself does not take such a view. Yet that is not the same as 
      saying that nothing in Scripture can be taken absolutely.
           As stated in my 
      response to Via (p. 101 and especially online notes 126-28), Via’s 
      hermeneutical presupposition that the church is bound to make 
      exceptions for approval to, or override, all rules in one or more 
      circumstances leads to ethically absurd conclusions. And yet only if Via 
      rigidly maintains this hermeneutical presupposition can he validly charge 
      that I have necessarily erred in appropriating absolutely the Bible’s 
      absolute proscription of homosexual practice. If it were otherwise, that 
      is, if there were instances of rules in which no contextual factors 
      would necessitate exceptions for approval (to say nothing of overriding 
      the rule completely), then Via would have to concede that the notion of a 
      scriptural rule without exceptions is hermeneutically sound. So Via is 
      faced with a conundrum: either (1) concede that some rules, including 
      sexual rules, are to be taken absolutely—in which case his main 
      hermeneutical complaint about my position crumbles—or (2) continue to 
      insist rigidly that there are no moral absolutes, despite obvious examples 
      to the contrary—in which case he looks at best illogical and at worst 
      extremist. 
      
      Considering incest on a case-by-case basis?
      In his response, Via 
      assiduously avoids dealing with my reference to the analogy of adult, 
      consensual incest, posed at length on pp. 48-50 of my essay. I can 
      understand why he wants to avoid it. He has no publicly acceptable answer 
      to the question: Under what circumstances might the church approve of a 
      man-mother sexual union? 
           Frankly, I am not even sure that 
      Via would oppose incest categorically. After all, in his discussion of the 
      sex laws in Leviticus 18 and 20, Via derides the concept that 
      “completeness or perfection means that classes or categories must be kept 
      distinct and not mixed, confused, or confounded,” even when the concept is 
      directly applied to bestiality and incest (p. 7). Later, in criticizing my 
      position, he claims that it is a moral “misstep” to proscribe sexual acts 
      based on the structural incompatibility of the participants (in Via’s 
      wording, “the confounding of categories” or “the failure to keep 
      categories distinct”) because the “motives or intentions” of the 
      participants are not taken into account (pp. 27-28). Via cites only three 
      criteria for a legitimate sexual relationship: consent, love, and 
      commitment or fidelity. The only consistent or logical 
      conclusion that one can draw from Via’s arguments—we can at least hope 
      that Via is inconsistent and illogical here—is that every sexual 
      relationship between a man and mother, a man and his sister, a man and his 
      horse, three or more humans, and an adult and child has to be considered 
      on a case-by-case basis in our current cultural context. There are no 
      structural prerequisites—period. If this is not an extremist position, 
      what would count as extremist?    
      
      The difference between precluding and concluding as 
      regards contextual factors. I do not preclude examining contextual 
      factors in assessing whether an absolute rule in Scripture should be 
      maintained absolutely. Preclude means “rule out in advance.” If I 
      had done this I would not have bothered answering in my essay and response 
      hermeneutical arguments advanced to discount the biblical witness. Nor 
      would I have devoted roughly 200 pages of The Bible and Homosexual 
      Practice to such matters. I contend that a core value in Scripture—I 
      think that I have conclusively demonstrated that a male-female 
      prerequisite is a core value—necessitates on the part of “revisionists” a 
      heavy burden of proof for espousing change. If the church’s confession of 
      Scripture’s authority means anything, it certainly means at least that. 
      But that is different from “ruling out in advance.” I then examine the 
      arguments for deviating from Scripture—in more detail than Via or any 
      other religious scholar has done—and simply find them wanting. 
           Do I think that the 
      church should proscribe same-sex intercourse absolutely (i.e., without 
      exceptions), based on (1) the heavy burden of proof established by the 
      pervasive, strong, absolute, and countercultural witness of Scripture and 
      (2) a critical investigation of the inadequacy of hermeneutical arguments 
      intended to circumvent that witness (e.g., exploitation, orientation, 
      misogyny)? Yes, guilty as charged. Yet that hardly makes me, or my tone, 
      absolutist. In fact, I do not know of any reasonable Christian who, on 
      hearing “absolutist” or “absolute tone,” has in mind a person who argues 
      that there are some absolute values in Scripture and that these 
      absolutes can be discerned on the basis of assessing both their importance 
      within Scripture and the demerits of hermeneutical arguments to the 
      contrary. 
            Who are the true 
      absolutists? Via, apparently, and all those who believe that one must not 
      only examine contextual factors but also, after such an examination, 
      necessarily conclude in favor of exceptions to, or even a complete 
      overhaul of, the biblical witness. Clearly, it is possible both (a) to 
      consider the possibility that other circumstances might modify a strong 
      biblical teaching and (b) to decide after a careful examination of these 
      circumstances that they do not meet the heavy burden of proof needed to 
      warrant such a change. Via and those who agree with him apparently take 
      (a) and (b) as an inherent “either-or” proposition, in defiance of both 
      logic and ecclesiastical confession. This is bad hermeneutics. One cannot 
      assume that new contextual factors will warrant a partial or complete 
      deviation from the New Testament ethical witness. One has to establish, 
      first, that the allegedly “new” circumstances are indeed significantly 
      new; and, second, that these allegedly new circumstances speak directly to 
      the reasons why biblical authors held to a specific position. Failing to 
      establish both conditions results in insufficient grounds for dismissing 
      Scripture’s authoritative stance on a core value. 
      
           As it is, Via has established neither condition. Committed homoerotic 
      relationships lay within the conceptual field of the ancient world (even 
      Via concedes this), as did the idea of some congenitally connected and 
      relatively exclusive homoerotic desire. These contextual factors did not 
      make any difference to some Greco-Roman moralists and physicians. Why, 
      then, should they have made any difference to Paul, who incidentally was 
      aware of the malakoi (often lifelong participants in homoerotic 
      practice), rejected same-sex intercourse on the basis of the structural 
      incongruity of homoerotic unions, and viewed sin generally as a powerful, 
      innate impulse? Nor has Via made a convincing case that Scripture’s 
      disapproval of same-sex intercourse is based exclusively on some flawed 
      theological principle, such as misogyny. Via has not demonstrated that 
      there is something wrong with the principle that an integrated and 
      holistic sexual union requires one’s sexual “other half,” a principal 
      beautifully illustrated in Genesis 2:18-24. Nor has Via made a case that 
      there is nothing developmentally problematic about being erotically 
      attracted to, and attempting sexual merger with, the sex or gender that 
      one already is. The fact that less than two or three percent of all 
      homosexual unions may turn out to be both lifelong (assuming a minimum 
      duration of 40 years) and monogamous (never an outside sex partner) has no 
      positive bearing on the acceptability of homosexual unions from a biblical 
      perspective. The reason is not because contextual factors do not matter 
      (as Via misunderstands) but rather because, as with incest, Scripture’s 
      main reason for rejecting homosexual unions does not have to do with 
      deficiencies in longevity and monogamy. In his response Via gives no 
      indication that he understands this basic point, even though it is 
      repeated over and over again in my essay. The so-called “contextual 
      factors” that Via introduces are really not contextual factors because 
      they do not speak to Scripture’s main reason for proscribing same-sex 
      intercourse. Following Via’s argument, one might just as well complain 
      that incest laws do not consider the “contextual factors” of consent, 
      love, and commitment; or that laws against pedophilia do not factor in 
      “contextual factors” regarding a man’s exclusive sexual orientation toward 
      children; or, for that matter, that laws against murder do not take into 
      account “contextual factors” concerning hygiene.  
      What would “prioritization of rules” have 
      meant for Jesus and Paul?
      In speaking 
      disparagingly of my alleged “prioritization of rules,” Via shows, despite 
      his claims to the contrary, that he does not agree with me “that Jesus and 
      Paul inseparably joined radical grace and forgiveness to the demand for 
      radical obedience and to the judgment against sin that is intrinsic in the 
      latter” (p. 94). Jesus conducted an intensive outreach to the lost in the 
      context of an intensification of God’s ethical demand. He declared that 
      those who did not do what he said would be destroyed, including, 
      potentially, those who circumvented God’s will at creation for human 
      sexual behavior (see pp. 24-31 of my full rejoinder to Wink at
      
      http://www.robgagnon.net/articles/gagnon5.pdf). Paul wrote that what 
      matters is “keeping the commandments of God” (1 Cor 7:19) and did so in 
      the larger context of discussing sex rules concerning male-female 
      marriage, adultery, fornication, incest, male-male intercourse, and sex 
      with prostitutes (1 Cor 5-7). Like Jesus, Paul understood the creation 
      stories, particularly Genesis 1:27 and 2:24, to provide normative and 
      prescriptive rules for human sexual behavior (1 Cor 6:16; Rom 1:23, 
      26-27). He also repeatedly put persons participating in sexual vices at 
      the beginning of lists of unrepentant offenders, Christian or not, who ran 
      the risk of not inheriting the kingdom of God (see N31). My own book comes 
      across as “wimpy” in comparison to some of the strong statements made by 
      Jesus and Paul on the importance of keeping God’s moral rules (a.k.a. 
      commandments). Yes, both Jesus and Paul—Paul more radically than 
      Jesus—qualified the place of dietary and calendar rules. But neither Jesus 
      nor Paul put sexual ethics on the same plane as diet and calendar. Their 
      sex-ethic demand—Paul in reliance on Jesus—was, if anything more intense 
      than what had gone before. 
      
           What does an 
      inappropriate “prioritization of rules” mean in these contexts? Certainly 
      it does not refer to holding firmly to key sexual prerequisites, 
      established at creation and in force despite counter-claims to loving 
      dispositions and innate desires. Inappropriate forms of rule 
      prioritization occur when one does not suffer with those who egregiously 
      violate God’s commands or when one does not make compassionate efforts at 
      retrieving offenders for the kingdom of God.
      
           Allow me to make a recommendation to pro-homosex apologists who like 
      to criticize pro-complementarity advocates for wrongly absolutizing rules 
      and prioritizing trans-covenantal, structural sexual prerequisites over a 
      loving and committed disposition. Please call to mind Paul’s stance on 
      adult, consensual, and (for all we know) committed man-(step)mother incest 
      in 1 Corinthians 5. Please answer the following questions: Was Paul 
      inappropriately “prioritizing rules” when he advised the Corinthians “in 
      the name of the Lord Jesus” to disfellowship temporarily the incestuous 
      man? Was his tone inappropriately “absolutist”? Should he have considered 
      the couple’s consent, love, and commitment to one another before rejecting 
      the relationship out of hand? Would Jesus have done anything differently 
      (Paul says no)? Should Paul have gotten together with the Corinthians so 
      that together they might have achieved a new synthesis of the truth, a 
      “new vision” of consensual and committed incest for their time, a vision 
      not tied to the old purity dictates of the Mosaic law? Moreover, if 
      pro-homosex advocates think that an “orientation” makes all the 
      difference, they should ask themselves whether an orientation toward 
      incest—were it to be established for some persons—should make any 
      difference to Scripture’s key incest prohibitions. They should consider 
      recent scientific studies that indicate that men generally find monogamy a 
      far greater challenge than do women and ask themselves whether the church 
      should endorse non-monogamous relationships for most men. They should ask 
      themselves whether a partial congenital basis for some pedophilia, or an 
      exclusive sexual orientation toward children, improves the moral quality 
      of adult-child sex, even when many victims of pedophilia do not show any 
      scientifically measurable evidence of long-term harm.  
      Orientation and radical reorientation.
      Via writes:  
      
        
        When [Gagnon] abstracts homosexual acts 
        from a person’s orientation, unifying center of consciousness, or 
        ‘leading edge’. . . then he has severed homosexual practice from the 
        most intimate and essential context available and necessary for 
        assessing the quality of the behavior. (p. 95) 
      
      
           Via’s love affair with the concept of “orientation” makes little 
      sense. Replace “homosexual acts/practice” with “pedophilic acts/practice” 
      or “‘polyphilic’ (i.e., non-monogamous) acts/practice” and the absurdity 
      of the formulation becomes self-evident. There is nothing magical about an 
      “orientation,” sexual or otherwise. In the sexual sphere a great many 
      people, mostly men, have a “polysexual” orientation. They experience 
      intense dissatisfaction with limiting sexual relationships to lifelong, 
      monogamous unions. A much smaller number of persons, again mostly men, 
      have a “pedosexual” (pedophilic) orientation. An “orientation” is just the 
      directedness of a given strong desire or constellation of desires during a 
      given period in a person’s life. Indeed, the root human sin—the great 
      “unifying center of consciousness”—is a self-centered, self-gratifying 
      orientation, which in Christian thinking is to be put to death. One of the 
      main thrusts of the Christian gospel or good news is that believers have 
      died, and must actualize that dying, to an array of “orientations” that 
      are at cross-purposes with the revealed will of God. An integral component 
      of the gospel is the call to radical life reorientation, which 
      takes place in spite of an ongoing and often intense struggle with sin. 
      Choosing destinies.
      Via’s hermeneutical method presupposes that 
      biologically related orientations determine a believer’s “destiny.” This 
      “destiny” must be viewed as God’s “creative intent,” to be “actualized” in 
      gratifying associated desires (pp. 33, 95). 
      
           In common English usage, what is destiny? The American 
      Heritage Dictionary of the English Language (4th ed., 2000) 
      defines destiny as:  
      
        - 
        The inevitable or necessary fate to which a particular person or thing 
        is destined; one’s lot.
- 
        A predetermined course of events considered as something beyond human 
        power or control.
      Similarly, Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary (1996, 1998) 
      defines destiny as: 
      
        - 
        That to which any person or thing is destined; predetermined state; 
        condition foreordained by the Divine or by human will; fate; lot; doom.
- 
        The fixed order of things; invincible necessity; fate; a resistless 
        power or agency conceived of as determining the future, whether in 
        general or of an individual.
The operative 
      terms here are “predetermined,” “foreordained,” “determining,” and “beyond 
      human power or control.” In Pauline and Johannine terms, the issue for 
      believers in Christ is whether the “flesh” (i.e., Spirit-less humanity) or 
      the Spirit of Christ will be the determining and controlling power in 
      human life. The gospel announces to us that there is a choice. In Via’s 
      usage, destiny is established by the strong and persistent desires of the 
      fallen old creation. In Christian understanding, destiny is established by 
      God’s will, manifested in pre-fall, creation structures, and afterwards 
      renewed, empowered, and amplified in the new creation in Christ that is 
      mediated by Christ’s atoning death and the gift of his Spirit. No set of 
      biologically related urges—no matter how dominant and persistent—has any 
      precedence over the will of the Creator who is now also the Re-Creator. In 
      Via’s reasoning, the more persistent and intense a desire is, the greater 
      is its claim to destiny. In Christian reasoning, often the most persistent 
      and intense of desires are crucified at the foot of the cross. Those who 
      are, in the main, driven by the sinful impulses of the flesh do indeed 
      have a destiny: death, separation from God. Those who are, in the main, 
      driven by the Spirit and thus live in conformity to God’s commands have a 
      better destiny by far: eternal life (Rom 6:20-23; 8:6-8).  
      
      So then, brethren, we are debtors not to the flesh, to living in 
      conformity to the flesh, for if you live in conformity to the flesh, you 
      are going to die; but if by the Spirit you are putting to death the deeds 
      of the body, you will live. For as many as are being led by the Spirit of 
      God—these are the children of God. (Romans 8:12-14) 
      
      For further discussion I refer readers to N160.  
      What change 
      means in the context of experiencing persistent sinful impulses.
      Via argues that a 
      homosexual person “cannot not be 
      homosexual (there may be exceptions),” so a homosexual should be entitled 
      to gratify—in loving, committed relationships, of course—homoerotic 
      desires. The “homosexual destiny,” Via claims, must be “part of God’s 
      creative intent” (p. 33).
      
           This kind of theological reasoning leaves much to be desired. Even 
      persons without theological training know better. In N19 I quote from Dr. 
      Fred Berlin, founder of the Sexual Disorders Clinic at Johns Hopkins. With 
      respect to pedophilia he says:  
      
        
        The biggest misconception about pedophilia 
        is that someone chooses to have it. . . . It’s not anyone’s fault that 
        they have it, but it’s their responsibility to do something about it. . 
        . . Biological factors play into [the development of pedophilia]. . . . 
        We’ve learned that you can successfully treat people with pedophilia, 
        but you cannot cure them.  
      
      
      Elsewhere he notes that there are exclusive and non-exclusive forms of 
      pedophilia and reiterates the point regarding cure: “There's no cure for 
      pedophilia. There is, however, effective and successful treatment. As with 
      alcoholism, where there are many similarities, we talk about successful 
      treatment but not cures” (“Interview with Frederick S. Berlin,” Office of 
      Communications of the US Catholic Bishop Conference, Sept. 8, 1997: 
      online:
      
      http://www.usccb.org/comm/kit6.htm). Should persons who often “cannot
      not be” pedophiles (or ephebophiles, men attracted to boys around 
      the time of their puberty) be entitled to gratify—in loving, committed 
      unions, of course—pedophilic desires? Applying Via’s rationale for 
      homosexual behavior to pedophilic behavior, should we not say: The 
      “pedosexual” destiny must be part of God’s creative intent? And on and on 
      we could go. The alcoholic “cannot not be” an alcoholic. The 
      “polysexual” man “cannot not be” dissatisfied with a lifelong 
      monogamous relationships. The compulsive gambler “cannot not be” a 
      compulsive gambler. There are just too many controlling sinful conditions 
      in life to give any credence to Via’s argument that the alleged 
      immutability of homosexuality makes it “part of God’s creative intent,” a 
      destiny to be “actualized.”
      
           How basic does this get? It is the very nature of sin itself to be a 
      controlling and ever-present force in this life. In one sense, the 
      Christian sinner “cannot not be” a sinner, if by sinner we mean a 
      person who perpetually struggles with intense sinful desires and who at 
      points invariably succumbs to such desires. Should we then conclude that 
      sin must be “part of God’s creative intent”? By Via’s reasoning, the 
      answer is “Yes.” Since Christians cannot not sin—they can reduce 
      the degree of acquiescence to sin but they cannot be perfect—by all means 
      let us sin in a “responsible” way? The idea is absurd—contrast Paul’s 
      answer to the question “Why not sin?” in Romans 6:1-7:6; 8:1-14—but that 
      is where the logic of Via’s argument takes us. Despite the persistent 
      character of sin, Christians are not mere “sinners” in the sense that they 
      are helpless pawns in the grip of sin. Through the empowering force of the 
      Spirit they can be freed from the ultimate control of sin. Change is 
      possible at many different levels. 
      
           When one errs and sins, the appropriate response is not: That is the 
      way you made me, God; it’s my destiny. Rather, an appropriate response 
      would be: I failed you, God; I’m sorry. My sin has showed me that I have 
      regarded the satisfaction of my own fleshly desires as more important than 
      your will for my life. Renew my mind, Lord, to believe that what you want 
      for me is better than the momentary self-gratification that I seek for 
      myself. 
      
           How we think of change with respect to sin generally provides 
      guidance in how we should think of change with respect to any particular 
      sinful impulse, including homoerotic desire. I discuss this on p. 103 and 
      in Nn150-52. Change for homosexuals is possible at many different levels: 
      behavioral change, change in one’s conscious fantasy life, change in the 
      level of intensity of homoerotic impulses, and/or change in heterosexual 
      functioning and impulses. 
           Via comments under 
      his “Change” heading on p. 97: “Despite what [Gagnon] may affirm about the 
      reality of homosexual orientation, he nevertheless seems to regard 
      homosexual passions as mutable.” Via seems confused here, but there is no 
      need for him to be confused. Since his very next heading is “Analogies,” 
      he is apparently alluding to my only references to homosexuality as a 
      “mutable” condition, appearing in my discussion of analogies (pp. 43, 46). 
      There I make clear in the context (see p. 44, second sentence from the 
      top, and N9) that I am referring to macrocultural and microcultural 
      influences on the incidence of homosexuality—including the extent of 
      sociocultural sanctions or expectations for or against homosexual 
      behavior, geographical setting (urban, suburban, rural), education and 
      income level, family and peer influences, and incremental life choices and 
      experiences (N146). That Via thinks that I said anything controversial 
      only underscores the deficiencies of his knowledge of this subject. Not 
      even homosexual scientists like Simon LeVay and Dean Hamer discount 
      completely the role of environment in homosexual development. Even Alfred 
      Kinsey and the Kinsey Institute recognized that experiencing one or more 
      shifts along the “Kinsey spectrum” in the course of one’s life was the 
      norm for the vast majority of homosexuals. I cite the evidence for the 
      influence of socialization and environment on homosexuality in The 
      Bible and Homosexual Practice (pp. 396-429, esp. 401-402, 413-18; cf. 
      also Gagnon 2001b, 9-12; Gagnon 2003d, 14-17; and N146). Here is a study 
      that I neglected to cite in The Bible and Homosexual Practice: G. 
      Remafedi, et al., "Demography of sexual orientation in adolescents," 
      Pediatrics 89:4 (Apr. 1992): 714-21. The authors’ abstract reads:  
      
      This study was undertaken to explore 
      patterns of sexual orientation in a representative sample of 
      Minnesota junior and senior high school students. The sample 
      included 34,706 students (grades 7 through 12) from diverse 
      ethnic, geographic, and socioeconomic strata. . . . Overall, 10.7% of 
      students were "unsure" of their sexual orientation; 88.2% 
      described themselves as predominantly heterosexual; and 1.1% 
      described themselves as bisexual or predominantly homosexual. . 
      . . Gender differences were minor; but responses to individual 
      sexual orientation items varied with age, religiosity, 
      ethnicity, and socioeconomic status. Uncertainty about sexual orientation
      diminished in successively older age groups, with corresponding 
      increases in heterosexual and homosexual affiliation. The 
      findings suggest an unfolding of sexual identity during 
      adolescence, influenced by sexual experience and demographic 
      factors. (emphasis added) 
      If adolescents experiment 
      in homosexual behavior, those whose sexual identity is still somewhat in 
      flux will probably experience a higher incidence of homosexual proclivity 
      than if they had never participated in such behavior. We also know now 
      that the brain rewires in accordance with experiences in life; in short, 
      nurture can become nature (cf. The Bible and Homosexual Practice, 
      398-99).
      
           Obviously, I am not contending for unlimited homosexual plasticity. 
      Rather, I am contending for a level of mutability that puts homosexuality 
      in a whole different category from things like ethnicity and sex. 
      
           As with all sinful impulses, the key threshold of change for 
      believers with homoerotic impulses is ceasing to live, in the main, out of 
      such desires. One of the great themes of Paul’s so-called “Second” Letter 
      to the Corinthians is that we best replicate the paradigm of Christ’s 
      cruciform existence in our endurance of pain and suffering, not 
      deliverance from such (e.g., 11:23-12:10). Endurance of difficult times, 
      not deliverance from them, constitutes the supreme moment of God’s power. 
      That means the greatest example of change as regards homoerotic impulses 
      may not be the eradication of such impulses but faithful endurance in the 
      midst of an intense struggle. One thinks of Job. Anyone can serve God when 
      things are going right. It is when things do not go right, when we are not 
      delivered during hard times, that God is most glorified by his servants. A 
      similar theological point is made in John’s Gospel when the moment of 
      Jesus’ crucifixion is depicted as a “lifting up” or exaltation of the 
      obedient Son of Man (3:14; 8:28; 12:32-34). Unfortunately, there is little 
      room for this kind of thinking in Via’s theology of change. 
      
           On a side note: Via comments that my “reference to those ‘afflicted’ 
      with homoerotic desires [p. 41] suggests—regrettably—that homosexual 
      orientation is a disease” (p. 97). Despite Via’s condescending attempt at 
      moralizing and scolding, there is nothing “regrettable” about my use of 
      the term “afflicted.” In fact, the term is quite pastoral. It underscores 
      that individuals who experience homoerotic desire are not just “making up” 
      these impulses but are in fact victimized by them. To be “afflicted” by 
      something is to be caused persistent harm, distress, pain, or acute 
      annoyance. Scripture is quite clear that the desire to have sexual 
      intercourse with a person of the same sex is a particularly grievous 
      sinful desire. As an unsolicited, persistent, and intense sinful 
      desire, homoerotic passion is, by Christian definition, an affliction. A 
      number of other sinful desires, sexual or likewise, could be so described. 
      To be sure, I do not describe persistent homoerotic desire as a “disease” 
      in my essay. Strictly speaking, homosexuality is not a disease because, as 
      Dr. Jeffrey Satinover notes, it is not “predominantly innate and 
      biological” such that “its ‘treatment’ would likewise be biological.” 
      There are too many factors that go into shaping homosexual 
      development—including childhood socialization, macrocultural factors, and 
      incremental, reinforcing choices—to suggest that something like a vaccine 
      could “cure” someone of homosexuality. Nevertheless, insofar as sinful 
      impulses have a partial biological basis and disease-like traits, one may 
      speak metaphorically of homosexuality as a spiritual illness, like other 
      biologically related impulses that Scripture declares to be sin. For 
      further discussion of this point readers would do well to consult 
      Satinover (1996, 41-48, 172-74).
      What is at stake? What is at stake in this whole discussion? Nothing less than 
      essential tenets of the Christian faith—and not just in the area of human 
      sexuality. Via’s “unwavering commitment” to four hermeneutical 
      presuppositions—a “No” to all absolutes, a “No” to any structural 
      prerequisites for sexual unions, a “Yes” to biological determinism, and  a 
      “No” to the Bible’s core values—constitute a distinctly anti-Christian 
      philosophy that has negative ramifications well beyond the issue of 
      homosexual practice. 
       
      
      BIBLICAL AUTHORITY,
      PREUNDERSTANDING, AND COMPLEMENTARITY 
      
      Via’s concession regarding the biblical witness. Via wants to 
      assure readers that Gagnon’s  
      
        
        accumulation of biblical texts condemning 
        homosexual practice is irrelevant to my argument since I agree that 
        Scripture gives no explicit approval to same-sex intercourse. I 
        maintain, however, that the absolute prohibition can be overridden 
        regardless of how many times it is stated, for there are good reasons to 
        override it. (p. 94) 
      
      
           Via tries to put the best face on his tacit concession that the 
      Bible’s witness against same-sex intercourse is not limited to a few texts 
      or given only marginal significance.  After reading my essay, he does not 
      even try to contest my position that the Bible’s witness is pervasive, 
      absolute, strong, and countercultural. Yet he says to readers that it does 
      not matter how important the other-sex prerequisite is in Scripture. He 
      still has “good reasons to override” a core value. 
      
           In actual fact, though, Via’s position is made more vulnerable by the 
      demonstration that he is repudiating a core value of Scripture in sexual 
      ethics. And he knows it. 
      
      Moving from marginal value to core value in Christians’ “ highest 
      authority.” According to Via’s own affirmation at the beginning of 
      his essay, he takes “the Bible to be the highest authority for Christians 
      in theological and ethical matters” (p. 2). If we take Via at his word, 
      then a very strong position against homosexual practice in Scripture 
      obviously increases significantly the burden of proof required to overturn 
      that witness. Otherwise, Via’s statement about Scripture as the “highest 
      authority” is just a pretense. A common hermeneutical principle is that 
      some matters in Scripture are weightier than others. Accordingly, the more 
      that one shows that the biblical witness against same-sex intercourse is 
      pervasive, unqualified, intense, and countercultural—a core value—the more 
      difficult it becomes to justify deviation from the biblical witness. This 
      is all the more the case when the alleged justification entails tenuous, 
      out-of-context appeals to the Johannine themes of “all truth” and 
      “abundant life” (see below).
      
           Via tacitly recognizes this point about ascending burden of proof 
      when, in an effort to protect his position against the charge of arrogance 
      in relation to Scripture, he tries to assure his readers at the end of his 
      essay that this “new position” on homosexuality only has to supersede “the 
      few explicit biblical texts that forbid homosexual practice” (p. 39). That 
      has a much nicer sound than: My new position supersedes one of Scripture’s 
      most important core values in sexual ethics. The church cannot eliminate a 
      core requirement in sexual ethics and expect a confession about Scripture 
      as “the highest authority” to remain intact. Sooner or later the vital 
      place of Scripture in the life of the church has to unravel. Then holding 
      up Scripture—including the figure of Jesus—as “the highest authority” is 
      revealed to be the sham that it truly is. One of the main purposes of 
      my—as Via calls it—“accumulative cataloging of the Bible’s prescriptive 
      heterosexual norms and proscriptive homosexual norms” (p. 94) is to 
      underscore for readers that pro-homosex readings of Scripture constitute a 
      direct assault on the core sexual ethics of Scripture. We are not dealing 
      with a minor matter within Scripture. We are dealing with a matter of 
      great importance, the violation of which would have appalled Jesus and 
      every writer of Scripture. Once we realize this, then the suspicion of 
      arrogance on the part of so-called revisionists is heightened, and 
      rightfully so. 
      
           Via knows too that I do not just “catalog” the substantial number of 
      texts that speak explicitly or implicitly to the issue of same-sex 
      intercourse. I show the great importance attached to an other-sex 
      prerequisite for integrated sexual wholeness, as it intersects with other 
      theological concerns within Scripture and contrasts with more open views 
      prevailing in the “pagan” environment. In other words, I show that the 
      biblical view regarding an other-sex prerequisite is a defining feature of 
      early Jewish and Christian sexual ethics. More than that, I show that 
      claims to “new knowledge” made by Via and other pro-homosex advocates are 
      based on erroneous assumptions about what the writers of Scripture 
      allegedly could (or could not) have known and what science allegedly tells 
      us in our own day. Furthermore, I contend that this alleged “new 
      knowledge” is quite beside the point since it sidesteps what Scripture 
      finds fundamentally wrong about same-sex intercourse: the structural 
      incongruity of attempting to remerge sexually, in an attempted act of 
      sexual integration and completion, with the gender that one already is. So 
      Via and others claim: Something new has burst on the scene that warrants a 
      radical change from Scripture. But the reality is: No, this allegedly new 
      thing, properly understood, is not radically different from what New 
      Testament authors could have surmised, nor does it speak directly to the 
      reasons behind the biblical indictment. 
      
      The multiple readings argument. Another attempt on Via’s part 
      to do “damage control” is to argue that I, no less than he, have read my 
      preunderstanding into the text so that what I get out of the text is 
      essentially what I want the text to say:   
      
        
        There is no interpretation apart from the 
        differing presuppositions and starting points from which interpretation 
        is made. No one has Scripture as it is “in itself” but only from a point 
        of view. Therefore, while Professor Gagnon puts great stress on the 
        consistent position of Scripture, his own position 
        is a reading of Scripture in light of certain ideas and choices 
        that he brings to the Bible. (Via’s emphases; pp. 93-94) 
      
      
           Of course we all bring our varied interests to Scripture. There is no 
      debate about that point. The debate is over what we claim Scripture brings 
      to us, whether we can substantiate claims to applying faithfully the 
      biblical heritage, and whether all readings are equally valid. In this 
      instance Via makes no effort to refute my case for the overwhelming 
      witness of Scripture against same-sex intercourse. He wants readers 
      to think that my presentation is just one of many possible readings. But 
      he does not demonstrate to readers that an alternate 
      reading—namely, that Scripture lacks a consistent position—makes equal or 
      better sense of the data. I, on the other hand, do demonstrate that Via’s 
      perception of “few explicit texts” is a false reading—or at least neither 
      Via nor any other scholar to date has refuted that demonstration. How much 
      sense does it make to say: While Professor Gagnon puts great stress on 
      the consistent position of Scripture against man-mother 
      incest, bestiality, idolatry, and cheating the poor, his own position 
      on each of these matters is a reading of Scripture in light of 
      certain ideas and choices that he brings to the Bible? Isn’t this 
      just a tad silly? Well, yes, it is my reading of Scripture in light of 
      values that I bring to the Bible. But let’s face it: It also happens to be 
      the only responsible and credible reading of Scripture’s witness on these 
      matters. There are some vague matters in Scripture but that does not mean 
      that everything in Scripture is subject to multiple contradictory 
      readings. 
      
      Via’s “good reasons” for disregarding this core value of Scripture. 
      Once Via, who professes the Bible to be the highest authority, decides not 
      to contest the claim that the Bible’s stance on same-sex intercourse is 
      strong, pervasive, absolute, and countercultural—in short, a core biblical 
      value—the burden of proof shifts dramatically to Via to provide 
      irrefutable evidence for any claim that the Bible is wrong. 
      
           As it is, Via does not provide such irrefutable 
      evidence—though he alleges that he does in recapping his “three factors” 
      (p. 95). These are his “good reasons” (p. 94) for overriding what he 
      admits is a pervasive and absolute scriptural witness: 
      
        - 
        He insists that “the biblical understanding of creation” supports his 
        position. It does not. The biblical understanding of creation recognizes 
        binding structural prerequisites to legitimate sexual unions (marriage) 
        that transcend matters of loving disposition and strong innate desire. 
        Foremost among these prerequisites is the other-sex requirement outlined 
        in Genesis 1:26-28 and especially Genesis 2:18-24. Sexual unions are 
        designed and intended by God as re-mergers of essential maleness and 
        essential femaleness into an integrated sexual whole. Jesus affirmed 
        this understanding. Indeed, Via himself has admitted that the biblical 
        prohibition, carried over into the New Testament, is “absolute,” with no 
        exceptions made for loving disposition. So why does Via continue to 
        refer to “the Bible’s belief that acts must be understood and evaluated 
        in the light of [the actor’s] character”? Clearly, the Bible does not 
        believe that a loving disposition changes homoerotic behavior from 
        unacceptable to acceptable. A loving disposition does not restore the 
        missing sexual complement. Prioritizing “motive and intent” over all 
        structural prerequisites to sexual intercourse also leads to absurd 
        ethical results (endorsing some forms of incest, polygamy, etc.). And 
        homosexual desire is not even directly congenital, let alone part of 
        God’s work in creation.
- 
        Via insists that “the reality of a destiny created by homosexual 
        orientation” disqualifies the univocal biblical witness against same-sex 
        intercourse. But he nowhere proves that knowledge of a persistent and 
        relatively exclusive desire would have constituted radically new 
        information for someone like Paul, leading irrevocably to a 
        reconfiguration of his theological thinking. Nor does he demonstrate 
        that every innate desire has to be considered “natural” in the sense of 
        that which accords with nature’s well-working processes, God’s designs, 
        or embodied existence. As noted above, the concept of a destiny based on 
        a deterministic biological scheme is patently anti-scriptural since all 
        sin is biologically related. The new creation in Christ is often at odds 
        with our deepest and most intense biological urges. The very concept of 
        dying and rising with Christ puts the lie to any assumption that 
        intractable biological urges must be accommodated. Many such urges must 
        be put to complete and total death. Of course, too, homosexual 
        “orientation” is not a non-malleable condition on the order of ethnicity 
        and a person’s sex. It is not 100% heritable like eye color. Its 
        incidence can be impacted by microcultural and macrocultural influences.
- 
        Via insists that “the experience of gay Christians” is decisive. But why 
        should it be? No experience is self-interpreting. And, on the whole, the 
        disproportionately high rates of harm attending homosexual practice 
        speak against, rather than for, endorsement. In addition, even when 
        homosexual unions turn out, in very exceptional cases, to be both 
        lifelong and monogamous, they still do not answer to why Scripture 
        defines same-sex intercourse as wrong: its same-sexness, erotic 
        attraction to what one is as a sexual being, denial of one’s 
        complementary sexual otherness in relation to the other sex. 
So 
      this is the irrefutable evidence for overriding completely Scripture’s 
      powerful position? His “three factors,” both collectively and 
      individually, are full of holes.
      
           Simply put, in a circumstance such as this where the biblical witness 
      is so overwhelmingly strong, with no dissenting witness or even partial 
      reservation within the canon, a strong hermeneutical presumption exists 
      that a “reading” that claims to override such a witness is not a faithful 
      application but a heretical departure. 
      
           As an example, consider the following. Suppose someone concedes that 
      a few biblical texts explicitly and absolutely condemn man-mother sexual 
      intercourse but then argues that these texts (1) do not address loving and 
      committed unions, (2) are outdated purity taboos, and (3) were concerned 
      only with patriarchal rights. What shall we say? Shall we throw up our 
      hands and say that both those who support caring, adult man-mother unions 
      and those who categorically oppose such unions, irrespective of loving 
      motives and intentions, have an accurate and faithful reading of 
      Scripture? Or that because we all bring our own “ideas and choices” to the 
      Bible, it is not possible to discern which interpretation is faithful to 
      the confession that “the Bible is the highest authority”? Or, worst of 
      all, that only the person endorsing man-mother sex is truly faithful to 
      the biblical witness? No reasonable biblical scholar would say any of 
      these things. The interpretation and application of the biblical witness 
      is based on, and must be substantiated by, exegesis of the biblical 
      witness in its historical-cultural context and by proper use of analogical 
      reasoning. It can be shown exegetically and analogically that: (1) 
      consent, love, and commitment are irrelevant considerations for assessing 
      the moral value of incest; (2) the structural prerequisite against 
      man-mother sex is not concerned merely with ritual purity; and (3) 
      patriarchal rights are at best reductionistic ways of explaining laws 
      against incest, leaving unaccounted incest laws that constrain patriarchal 
      authority and the general principle of not having sex with “the flesh of 
      one’s own flesh” (Lev 18:6). In sum, there is a strong and consistent 
      position of Scripture against man-mother intercourse, with no credible 
      (much less irrefutable) basis for Christians who acknowledge Scripture as 
      their “highest authority” to diverge sharply from this position. The same 
      applies to the strong and consistent position of Scripture against 
      same-sex intercourse. 
      Analogies.
      Just as Via does not contest my “accumulation of biblical 
      texts,” so too he does not contest my critique of various analogies, found 
      on pp. 43-47. Once again he claims that my discussion has no bearing on 
      his own position: “[Gagnon’s] critique does not affect my position, for I 
      make no use of those analogies” (p. 97; referring to the analogies of 
      Gentile inclusion, slavery, women in ministry, and divorce/remarriage).
      
      
           Here too Via cannot insulate his position against criticism. For one 
      of my two key points in assessing various proposed analogies was to show 
      that there are no good, past analogues for the kind of massive violation 
      of Scripture’s witness that endorsement of homosexual practice would 
      require. If Via is not willing, or is unable, to contest this point, then 
      he has little basis for advocating such departure while maintaining the 
      pretense of calling Scripture “the highest authority for Christians in 
      theological and ethical matters.” He has to concede that he is 
      recommending an unprecedented denial of biblical authority.
      
           In addition, Via does not contest my other key point; namely, that 
      the Bible’s stance on incest constitutes the best analogy to the Bible’s 
      position on same-sex intercourse (pp. 48-50). If it is the best analogy, 
      it strengthens considerably the case for maintaining an other-sex 
      prerequisite. I have already noted in this rejoinder how the incest 
      analogue undermines a number of Via’s claims; for example, that there are 
      no structural prerequisites for sexual relationships that trump 
      demonstrations of consent, love, and fidelity. This analogy does not go 
      away just because Via chooses to ignore it. 
      
      Male-female complementarity. According to Via, the theme of 
      anatomical complementarity “comes from [Gagnon’s] preunderstanding, not 
      from the biblical texts. . . . Gagnon attributes [the notion of anatomical 
      complementarity] to the biblical texts because that is what he believes
      the text must mean, but the belief and the meaning come from 
      his own modern set of beliefs” (pp. 95-96). That is false. The belief and 
      meaning come from the biblical text itself, understood in its historical 
      and literary context. Via makes much of the fact that Romans 1:26-27 does 
      not refer explicitly to anatomical complementarity. Yet secure exegetical 
      conclusions do not require explicit statements in the biblical text. Paul 
      states in 1 Corinthians 13:10 that when the teleion (“perfect, 
      mature”) comes, tongues and prophecy will be terminated. The text does not 
      tell us explicitly what teleion means but the historical and 
      literary context for Paul’s remark make clear that the return of Christ 
      and the onset of the new age are in view. Context considerations are also 
      decisive for understanding what Paul has in mind in Romans 1:26-27. Via 
      contradicts himself a bit when he allows that “it may be part of 
      what Paul had in mind” (p. 95). Well, if Via is willing to admit the 
      possibility that Paul had it in mind, he cannot conclude categorically—as 
      he does—that “the belief and the meaning come from [Gagnon’s] own modern 
      set of beliefs.” At any rate, the evidence is too strong to warrant only a 
      “may.” 
           There is nothing 
      anachronistic about asserting that Paul saw the complementary character of 
      male and female sex organs as a significant clue to God’s will for human 
      sexual relationships. For example, the second-century (A. 
      D.) physician Soranus (or his translator Caelius Aurelianus) 
      described the desire on the part of “soft men” to be penetrated (cf. 1 Cor 
      6:9) as “not from nature,” insofar as it “subjugated to obscene uses parts 
      not so intended” and disregarded “the places of our body which divine 
      providence destined for definite functions” (Chronic Diseases 
      4.9.131). Similarly, the first-century (A. 
      D.) Jewish philosopher Philo of Alexandria described the error of 
      the Sodomites, at least in part, in terms of obvious anatomical and 
      physiological features: “Although they were men, (they began) mounting 
      males, the doers not standing in awe of the [male] nature held in common 
      with those who had it done to them” (Abraham 135). Craig Williams, 
      in his pro-homosex book Roman Homosexuality (1999, 242), 
      acknowledges that “some kind of argument from ‘design’ seems to lurk in 
      the background of Cicero’s, Seneca’s, and Musonius’ claims: the penis is 
      ‘designed’ to penetrate the vagina, the vagina is ‘designed’ to be 
      penetrated by the penis” (cf. N88, N99). William R. Schoedel, in a 
      pro-homosex essay (2000, 46), similarly concludes: Ancient writers “who 
      appeal to nature against same-sex eros find it convenient to concentrate 
      on the more or less obvious uses of the orifices of the body to suggest 
      the proper channel for the more diffused sexual impulses of the body.” 
      
           The literary context 
      for Paul’s indictment of same-sex intercourse in Romans 1:24-27 further 
      confirms that Paul was thinking in part about male-female anatomical 
      complementarity. For Paul’s overall point in 1:18-32 is not just that all 
      humans sin but, more, that all humans “suppress the truth” accessible to 
      them in the self-evident structures of creation/nature. So in the case of 
      idolatry, which starts off the discussion, Paul focuses on the fact that 
      God’s “invisible qualities” are “made visible” and “clearly seen,” because 
      they are “mentally apprehended by means of the things made” (1:19-20). 
      Paul clearly intends his readers to see the manifestation of God’s wrath 
      in this age (1:18)—giving some over to preexisting desires for intercourse 
      with persons of the same sex—as a fitting punishment for their straying 
      into idolatry (1:27). Paul’s parenthetical reminder in 1:25—“who exchanged 
      the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather 
      than the Creator”—underscores the close connection between, on the one 
      hand, failure to accept the truth about God visible in creation and, on 
      the other hand, participation in a sexual act “against nature.” Those who 
      denied the obvious truth about God transparent in material structures 
      intact since creation and  “exchanged” the truth about God went on to deny 
      the obvious truth about themselves transparent in their embodied sexuality 
      and “exchanged” natural (other-sex) intercourse for unnatural (same-sex) 
      intercourse. In both instances there is a suppression of truth accessible 
      through observation of material structures in creation or nature. In the 
      context of Rom 1:18-27 the distinction between creation and nature 
      collapses because there Paul means by creation the way things 
      turned out after the initial act of creating. Both the truth about God 
      “since the creation of the world” and the truth about male-female sexual 
      complementarity in nature can be visually seen and mentally apprehended 
      “by means of the things made,” so that humans are “without excuse” (1:20).
           In view of the 
      evidence, when Via claims that I have imposed a modern argument from 
      design on Paul’s discussion in Romans 1, either Via is unaware of the 
      data—in which case he has not read my book and essay carefully—or, worse 
      still, he has deliberately chosen to suppress that data for his audience 
      and perhaps for himself. 
      
           Not only does Via demonstrate a lack of knowledge about the 
      historical and literary context for Paul’s remarks in Romans 1:24-27 but 
      also Via misrepresents my use of the argument from anatomy in The Bible 
      and Homosexual Practice. For I do not argue there that Paul’s 
      objection to same-sex intercourse is restricted to the anatomical fit of 
      the sex organs. Anatomical complementarity serves as an important 
      heuristic springboard for grasping the broad complementarity of maleness 
      and femaleness. As I say in N164:  
      
      
      
      
      
      
      And who then first looked with the eyes at 
      the male as though at a female . . . ? One nature came together in one 
      bed. But seeing themselves in one another they were ashamed neither 
      of what they were doing nor of what they were having done to them but . . 
      . exchanged great disgrace for a little pleasure. 
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      RITUAL IMPURITY 
      AND MORAL IMPURITY—ONCE
      MORE 
      I 
      treat at length the issue of the interrelationship of ritual impurity and 
      sin on pp. 66-67, 100-101 and Nn50-54, 118-28. In his response to my essay 
      (hence, to pp. 66-67 but not to pp. 100-101 in my response or to the 
      online notes), Via contends two things. First, I allegedly “pay virtually 
      no attention to” a “crucially important” difference between uncleanness 
      and sin; namely, that “uncleanness happens automatically from contact with 
      a physical object or process without any subjective involvement or 
      intention on the part of the person,” while sin “proceeds from the 
      conscious will and understanding of the heart” (p. 97). In his essay, Via 
      makes clear that he understands the sex laws in Leviticus 18 and 20 to be 
      addressing only acts of ritual uncleanness and not at all 
      acts of moral impurity. As he says on p. 7: “The pertinent point here is 
      that the condemnation of homosexuality [sic—male-male intercourse] 
      in Leviticus categorizes it as a source of uncleanness rather than 
      as a sin” (emphasis added). For Via, the prohibition of male-male 
      intercourse in 18:22 and 20:13 is nothing more than a piece of outdated 
      purity legislation. Second, Via alleges that “Paul does reinterpret 
      uncleanness as sin” by attributing the act of same-sex intercourse to a 
      “conscious, intentional suppression of truth,” and that I tacitly 
      acknowledge this point when I say that Paul rejects ritual impurity but 
      maintains moral impurity (pp. 97-98; cf. p. 10).  
      
      The sex laws in Leviticus 18 and 20 as moral impurity matters. 
      Via is both in error and confused on the question of whether the sex laws 
      in Leviticus 18 and 20 have to do with ritual purity or moral purity. My 
      point never was that ritual uncleanness and moral uncleanness are always 
      and everywhere indistinguishable. So far as a general principle is 
      concerned, Via’s first contention is irrelevant. So far as his particular 
      application of this principle to the sex laws in Leviticus 18 and 20 is 
      concerned, Via is simply wrong. My point—which Via pays no attention to in 
      his response—was that in the sex laws in Leviticus 18 and 20, as 
      elsewhere in the Old Testament, purity language is applied to sin, that 
      is, to intentional acts conceived as morally culpable. The abstract 
      distinction that Via wants to make between uncleanness and sin simply does 
      not hold for the sex laws in Leviticus 18 and 20, including the 
      prohibition of male-male intercourse in 18:22 and 20:13. 
      
           Scholars generally recognize that the sex laws in Leviticus 18 and 20 
      have to do with moral impurity, so I am puzzled that Via has been unable 
      to grasp this point. For example, David P. Wright, in the entry “Unclean 
      and Clean [OT]” for the Anchor Bible Dictionary notes regarding the 
      Old Testament: “Calling those involved in improper sexual relationships 
      impure is a way of calling the persons sinful” (6:734). Now, does Via want 
      to claim that Prof. Wright, who teaches in the Department of Near Eastern 
      and Judaic Studies at Brandeis and has written a major study on purity in 
      the Bible and the ancient Near East (The Disposal of Impurity 
      [Scholars Press, 1987]), does not understand the difference between ritual 
      impurity and moral impurity as regards sex laws in the Old Testament? 
      
           Similarly, Jacob Milgrom writes with respect to P (the Priestly 
      Source, found in Leviticus in chs. 1-16) and H (the Holiness Code, Lev 
      17-26):  
      
        
        Ritual impurity always allows for 
        purification and atonement. But the sexual abominations of Lev 18 (and 
        20) are not expiable through ritual. . . . In sum, ritual impurity (P) 
        is always subject to ritual purification, but no ritual remedy exists 
        for moral impurity (H). . . . These radically differing concepts of 
        tum’a ‘impurity’ is one of the terminological hallmarks that 
        distinguish H from P. . . . H, however, is not negating P. . .  Each 
        source speaks of a different kind of impurity: in P, it is concrete, 
        cultic—ritual impurity; in H, it is abstract, inexpungeable—moral 
        impurity. . . . Indeed, intention plays no part whatsoever in [Lev] 15 
        [P]; whether advertent or inadvertent, they generate impurity. Chap. 20 
        [H], however, focusing solely on sexual intercourse, is limited to 
        advertences. (Milgrom 2000, 1573, 1578, 1756)
      
      
      Once again, does Via want to allege that Dr. Milgrom, professor emeritus 
      of Biblical Studies at the University of California, Berkeley, professor 
      at Hebrew University in Jerusalem, and author of the magisterial 
      three-volume Anchor Bible Commentary on Leviticus, has misread the sex 
      laws in Leviticus 18 and 20 when he classifies them as treating moral 
      impurity rather than ritual impurity?
      
           Then, too, there is the recent book entitled Impurity and Sin in 
      Ancient Judaism (Oxford University Press, 2000) by Jonathan Klawans, 
      assistant professor of religion at Boston University. Klawans not only 
      makes a distinction between ritual impurity and moral impurity within the 
      Old Testament itself but also uses Leviticus 18 (esp. vv. 24-30) as the 
      lead-off and primary example of a text that addresses moral, rather than 
      ritual, impurity. He contrasts, for example, the moral impurity of sexual 
      sins (Lev 18), idolatry (Lev 19:31; 20:1-3), and bloodshed (Num 35:33-34) 
      with the ritual impurity of such things as childbirth, scale disease, 
      genital discharges, the carcasses of certain impure animals, and human 
      corpses (Lev 11-15 and Num 19). He sees five differences between ritual 
      and moral impurity: 
      
      (1) Whereas ritual impurity is generally 
      not sinful [i.e., generally natural and more or less unavoidable], moral 
      impurity is a direct consequence of grave sin. (2) Whereas ritual impurity 
      often results in a contagious defilement, there is no contact-contagion 
      associated with moral impurity. One need not bathe subsequent to direct or 
      indirect contact with an idolater, a murderer, or an individual who 
      committed a sexual sin. (3) Whereas ritual impurity results in an 
      impermanent defilement, moral impurity leads to a long-lasting, if not 
      permanent, degradation of the sinner and, eventually, of the land of 
      Israel. (4) Whereas ritual impurity can be ameliorated by rites of 
      purification, . . . moral purity is achieved by punishment, atonement, or, 
      best of all, by refraining from committing morally impure acts in the 
      first place. (5) . . . Although the term impure [tame’] is used in 
      both contexts, the terms “abomination” [to’evah] and “pollute” [hanaf] 
      are used with regard to the sources of moral impurity, but not with regard 
      to the sources of ritual impurity. (p. 26) 
      
           Klawans stresses that both ritual impurity and moral impurity are 
      contagions but ritual impurity alone contaminates as a result of physical 
      contact and is rectified largely by purification rites.
      
           As to Via’s second contention, once it is recognized that the sex 
      laws in Leviticus 18 and 20 already regard violations not (or not merely) 
      as ritual impurity but as moral impurity—sin—it is no longer tenable to 
      argue that Paul “reinterprets” the ritual uncleanness of Leviticus 18 and 
      20 as moral uncleanness. Rather, Paul’s view of same-sex intercourse as 
      moral impurity in Rom 1:24-27 is substantially continuous with the view 
      expressed in Lev 18:22 and 20:13.
      
           What does Via hope to achieve by (falsely) categorizing the sex laws 
      in Leviticus 18 and 20, particularly the prohibition of male-male 
      intercourse in 18:22 and 20:13, as pertaining only to matters of ritual 
      uncleanness? He has two things in view (see pp. 5, 7, 9-10, 18-20, 27-28).
      
      
           First, he uses this argument to dismiss the Levitical prohibitions 
      against male-male intercourse as irrelevant. Leviticus 18 and 20 allegedly 
      treat sex violations such as incest, adultery, male-male intercourse, and 
      bestiality as unclean acts and not as sin because they: 
      
        - 
        Focus on acts rather than on the loving dispositions, motives, and 
        intentions of the heart or on consequences (e.g., absence of promiscuity 
        or exploitation)
- 
        Are absolute, unexceptional
- 
        Show concern for what I call “structural prerequisites” to sexual 
        activity and what Via calls “the confounding of categories,” “mixing 
        what should not be mixed”
           Second, Via makes the move from dismissing the Levitical prohibitions 
      to dismissing my view on same-sex intercourse, as well as the views held 
      by Richard Hays and by Stanton Jones and Mark Yarhouse, as throwbacks to 
      outdated purity legislation. Via alleges that we “instantiate the gay 
      phenomenon in the realm of unclean/clean rather than in the realm of 
      sin/righteousness (the moral realm), where Paul has correctly put it” (p. 
      27) by likewise failing to take into account loving dispositions, 
      consequences such as whether or not the relationship is promiscuous and 
      exploitative, and the alleged priority of sexual orientation over 
      structural prerequisites. 
      
           There are so many false steps in Via’s reasoning that it creates a 
      minor headache just to sort out the logical mess. The key problem is that 
      Via’s definition of the requisite features of “phenomena in the realm of 
      unclean/clean” consists of features that are either misreadings of what 
      the sex laws in Lev 18 and 20 are doing or actual features of “phenomena 
      in the realm of sin/righteousness.” What he designates as distinguishing 
      marks of ritual purity are in fact not distinctive to ritual purity. A 
      related problem is that Via concedes that Paul treats homosexual practice 
      as something morally impure or sinful, not as something that is merely 
      ritually impure. What makes the difference for Via between the Levitical 
      prohibitions and Paul? According to Via, for Paul homosexuality “issues 
      from the distorted mind and heart . . . and is personal, chosen, (im)moral, 
      and against God” (p. 10). Yet nothing of decisive significance in this 
      definition of Paul’s view separates it either from the view expressed in 
      Leviticus 18 and 20 or from the view held by Hays, Jones/Yarhouse, or me.
      By definition, any willful, consensual act of sexual intercourse 
      that violates core structural prerequisites in Scripture and nature 
      “issues from a distorted mind and heart”—regardless of loving disposition. 
      At the same time both the authors of the Holiness Code and Paul gave 
      implicit rationales for the prohibition of same-sex intercourse. And both 
      regarded the behavior as chosen, not in the sense that it was unmotivated 
      by preexisting or exclusive desires but rather in the sense that it was 
      consensual. In other words, the behavior emanated from a conscious intent 
      to act in accordance with one’s desires rather than in accordance with the 
      revelation given in Scripture and in embodied existence.
      
           Consider the strangeness of Via’s arguments for distinguishing ritual 
      impurity from sin and the Levitical prohibitions from both Paul’s 
      perspective and the perspective of modern morality.  
      
      Disregarding intentions? Via constantly refers to 
      intentionality vs. non-intentionality as the line of demarcation 
      distinguishing sin from uncleanness. But his usage is too poorly defined 
      to be of much help. He assumes that the sex laws in Leviticus 18 and 20 do 
      not consider intentionality. Yet if they were entirely unconcerned about 
      intention and motive, their penalty would apply even to victims of rape. 
      As it is, the laws presume intentionality as consent on the part of those 
      liable to judgment (compare the refrain “their blood is upon them” in 
      20:10-13, 16). 
      
           There may be a sense in which the victim is regarded as “defiled,” 
      but there is no sense of the victim defiling others through contact or of 
      the victim’s liability. Leviticus 18:20 warns, “You shall not have sexual 
      relations with your neighbor’s wife and defile yourself through her.” Here 
      the male agent defiles himself. The phrase “through her” may suggest 
      mutual defilement but, at any rate, the parallel verse in Lev 20:10 
      presumes consent on the woman’s part. Ezekiel refers to an adulterer as 
      one who “defiles his neighbor’s wife” (18:6, 11, 15; 33:26), while Deut 
      22:24 refers to an adulterer who “violated (‘innah) his neighbor’s 
      wife” in a case of consensual adultery. Undoubtedly the same terms could 
      be applied in a case of rape. Thus Gen 34:5, 13, 27 refers to Dinah as 
      “defiled” by Shechem’s act of coercive sex (cf. Deut 24:4). In this sense 
      it describes the injury done to the victim, not the victim’s culpability. 
      Moreover, a woman defiled in this way does not convey ritual impurity to 
      any subsequent husband, at least not to a non-priest. The key distinction 
      is between the culpable act of “defiling oneself” through a willful 
      act of immoral sexual intercourse (cf. 18:23, 24, 30; Num 5:13-29) and the 
      non-culpable act of “being defiled” against one’s will. To be sure, a 
      woman who has had her virginity forcibly taken from her may suffer a 
      downgrading of her marriageability status. Nevertheless, moral 
      intentionality, defined as consent, makes all the difference in terms of 
      the application of criminal sanctions. This is clear enough from the laws 
      regarding suspected adulteresses in Num 5:11-31 and Deut 22:25-27. At 
      issue in both laws is whether the married (or engaged) woman has willingly 
      consented to have sex with another man. If the act was consensual—motives 
      beyond consent are irrelevant—then the woman is guilty of acting 
      unfaithfully, has “defiled herself,” and must “bear her iniquity.” 
      Defilement of a raped woman refers at most to status degradation through 
      loss of virginity—the woman raped has had something taken from her and has 
      been done harm—not to ritual contact-contagion or to moral culpability 
      (cf. Klawans 2000, 34).
      
           Via’s problem is that he confuses intentionality as consent and 
      intentionality as loving motive or disposition. It is in the latter sense, 
      and only in the latter sense, that Via can claim that Leviticus 18 and 20 
      do not treat “intentional” acts. Once the issue of consent is decided, 
      these laws express no interest in whether the perpetrator’s motives were 
      noble or ignoble, loving or malicious. In this sense of intentionality, 
      however, the Levitical sex laws are indistinguishable from Paul’s views 
      toward sexual immorality as well as our own. It certainly mattered not to 
      Paul whether a perpetrator of incest, adultery, male-male intercourse, or 
      bestiality—or, for that matter, a perpetrator of multiple-partner sex or 
      of sex with a prepubescent child—claimed a loving disposition or motive. 
      Nor does it matter to the church today what rationalizations persons may 
      use to justify violations of structural prerequisites for sexual behavior 
      as regards blood relatedness, fidelity, gender, species, number of 
      partners, or age. 
      
      Focus on acts rather than on loving disposition. Via insists 
      that a focus on acts automatically puts one in the realm of uncleanness 
      rather than in the realm of sin. But this is manifestly false. First, the 
      act is not focused on to the exclusion of consent. Consent matters but 
      rationalizations employed to justify a consensual act do not. Second, 
      neither the authors of the Holiness Code nor interpreters such as Hays, 
      Jones/Yarhouse, and me focus more on the act of same-sex intercourse than 
      did Paul or any other positive New Testament figure. Via admits this, 
      despite himself, when he speaks of Paul’s views on the matter as 
      “absolute.” Third, as noted repeatedly, the church quite rightly focuses 
      on a number of sexual acts irrespective of claims to love, commitment, and 
      even fidelity. Unless Via wants us to consider, for instance, man-mother 
      incest on a case-by-case basis, he must acknowledge that there are 
      circumstances in sexual relations where the focus has to be on consensual 
      act rather than on loving disposition. Because sexual intercourse is not 
      just about more intimacy but even more about erotic merger, a loving 
      disposition can be quite irrelevant to a valid sexual 
      proscription—obviously. 
      
      Focus on acts rather than on consequences? Via claims that 
      Hays, Jones/Yarhouse, and I regress to the ritual-impurity of the 
      Levitical Holiness Code and deviate from Paul’s moral-purity view when we 
      allegedly focus on homoerotic acts to the exclusion of consequences. The 
      truth is that we follow in the footsteps of both the Levitical 
      prohibitions and Paul in considering consequences while recognizing the 
      limitations of using measurable consequences as a basis for 
      discerning immorality. 
      
           As regards the consideration or non-consideration of consequences, 
      there are no significant differences between the authors of Leviticus 18 
      and 20 on the one hand and Paul on the other. Contrary to what Via 
      suggests, the authors of the Holiness Code, and not just Paul, understood 
      some of the negative consequences of incest, adultery, male-male 
      intercourse, and bestiality (see p. 65 and N48; Gagnon 2001a, 135-39). It 
      is absurd to think that they strongly proscribed certain forms of sexual 
      behavior and yet had not the slightest idea why they were doing so. In 
      fact, Via contradicts himself on this point because even he mentions 
      several possible consequences of male-male intercourse that may have been 
      in the minds of the authors of the Holiness Code (p. 8). Although Via’s 
      delineation of these consequences is deeply flawed, Via nonetheless 
      concedes a consideration of consequences. By the same token Via cannot 
      claim that Paul was more willing than the authors of Leviticus 18 and 20 
      to make exceptions to a ban on same-sex intercourse for allegedly 
      non-exploitative homoerotic relationships. Even Via has to acknowledge 
      that Paul’s opposition to same-sex intercourse was not limited to 
      particularly exploitative forms; for example, those manifesting 
      promiscuity, idolatry, or pederasty. And yet when Via speaks disparagingly 
      of a lack of attention to consequences on the part of the Holiness Code or 
      pro-complementarity scholars he clearly has things like promiscuity, 
      pederasty, and health effects in view. If readers are confused about how 
      the issue of consequences allows Via to distinguish between Paul’s 
      moral-purity view on the one hand and the alleged ritual-purity view of 
      the Holiness Code or pro-complementarity scholars on the other hand, they 
      have every reason to attribute their confusion to the illogic of Via’s 
      argument. 
      
           One of the many unintended ironies of Via’s critique is that, while 
      he criticizes me for focusing on homoerotic acts to the exclusion of 
      consequences, my book actually gives far more attention and documentation 
      to the negative consequences of endorsing homosexual behavior than Via’s 
      essay gives to the allegedly positive consequences of endorsing homosexual 
      practice. In the end, even Via has to concede, in the face of the 
      documentation of my book, that the number of homosexual relationships that 
      seem to be doing well “do not compose an impressively large population in 
      our time” (p. 25). Via tries to save his position by asserting that not 
      every homosexual relationship manifests measurable problems. But his 
      counterargument is unrealistic. No type of consensual sexual relationship
      always produces measurable psychological distress or bad effects to 
      one’s physical health. Scripture and the contemporary church classify many 
      behaviors, sexual and non-sexual, that do not produce measurable harm to 
      all participants in all circumstances as sinful—for example, idolatry. If 
      the church were to limit its disapproval of sexual relationships to only 
      those types for which one can demonstrate scientifically measurable harm 
      to all participants in all circumstances, the church could not disapprove 
      absolutely of any form of consensual sexual relationship. 
      
           The fact that the church does categorically proscribe a number of 
      types of consensual sexual relationships, despite the absence of proof 
      regarding universal measurable harm, does not mean that the church 
      discounts consequences altogether. First, the church recognizes that when 
      it endorses a rule for the sake of an exception it promotes negative 
      consequences for the many. Endorsement of the relatively few homosexual 
      unions that seem to be working well—understanding “well” within the 
      limited parameters of homosexual practice—will have the effect of lowering 
      societal resistance to homosexual behavior as it is typically practiced. 
      Ultimately, too, it will increase the incidence of homosexuality in the 
      population, with its disproportionately high negative side effects. 
      Second, the church also recognizes that the presence or absence of certain 
      measurable consequences, such as promiscuity or negative health effects, 
      does not address the prime problem with some sexual relationships. For 
      example, who cares whether a man-mother relationship, a threesome, an 
      adult-child union, or a human-animal erotic encounter produces 
      promiscuity, psychical distress, or disease for all participants? 
      The church rightly proscribes the behavior absolutely, regardless of such 
      consequences, because the main problem with such sexual unions extends 
      beyond questions of promiscuity or psychic-physical effects. Third, and 
      most importantly, the church recognizes that negative consequences do 
      invariably follow from a man-mother union, a sexual union between three or 
      more persons, a human-animal union, and an adult-child union—even when the 
      participants do not exhibit any long-term measurable harm. As a moral 
      institution, the church distinguishes between a utilitarian version of 
      consequences and a moral one; that is, between scientifically measurable 
      physical or psychological harm on the one hand and non-measurable, but no 
      less real, moral harm on the other hand. Just as one can surmise moral 
      harm to all participants in adult-parent unions, so too one can surmise 
      harm to all participants in same-sex erotic unions. For the narcissistic 
      attempt at merging with a sexual “same” compromises one’s integrity as a 
      sexual being designed for holistic merging with one’s missing sexual 
      “half.” Male erotic attraction for maleness and female erotic attraction 
      for femaleness is as morally problematic as erotic attraction for one’s 
      own parent or sibling. That is a real moral consequence.
      
           The unfortunate logical result of Via’s argumentation regarding 
      consequences can be seen in the contention of J. Michael Bailey, chair of 
      the department of psychology at Northwestern University, that higher 
      numbers of sex partners among male homosexuals should be accepted. His 
      defense is that the negative consequences of such behavior are far fewer 
      for male homosexuals than for heterosexuals: “gay male couples do not 
      often have children”; “men feel much less psychic conflict than women 
      about casual sex”; and “awful health consequences” to promiscuity 
      “essentially vanish” when “proper precautions” are taken (see N167).  
      
      An absolute prohibition. I have already given significant 
      attention in this rejoinder to Via’s unreasonableness in asserting that 
      absolute prohibitions represent a regression back to ritual purity. 
      Certainly Paul’s remarks about same-sex intercourse are no less absolute 
      than the Levitical prohibitions. Certainly, too, the church today 
      continues to maintain a number of absolute prohibitions, especially—but 
      not exclusively—in sexual ethics. This clearly does not turn Paul’s or the 
      church’s position into a ritual purity matter. 
      
      Structural prerequisites over orientation. Obviously giving 
      priority to certain structural prerequisites over orientation does not put 
      a command in the sphere of ritual purity. If it did, then absolute 
      prohibitions against adult-child sex would have to be so classified, given 
      the existence of exclusive “pedosexual” orientations. Similarly, absolute 
      restrictions on the numbers of sex partners in a given union would have to 
      yield to hard-wired proclivities toward multiple sex partners, especially 
      among males, or risk being categorized under laws of ritual cleanliness. 
      All sin is related to biological urges. Moreover, when Via scoffs at the 
      concept of “mixing what should not be mixed,” how far does he want to go 
      with this? Does Via feel that there are no structural impediments to 
      erotic contact between humans and animals or men and their mothers? A 
      particular irony is that there is much stronger evidence for Paul having 
      entertained the possibility of prenatal or congenital causation factors in 
      some forms of homoerotic attraction than for the writers of the Holiness 
      Code having entertained such. Yet Paul was just as insistent as the 
      authors of the Holiness Code that sex between males and sex between 
      females was structurally incompatible with creation design. Based on his 
      definition of ritual purity, Via should be arguing that Paul was even more 
      tied to ritual purity than the Holiness Code. 
      
           The bottom line is this: When Via claims that the sex laws in 
      Leviticus 18 and 20 treat ritual impurity rather than moral impurity he is 
      wrong and out of step with the latest and best research on purity in the 
      Old Testament. And when Via insists that absolute laws that do not make 
      exceptions for loving dispositions and “orientations” are regressions back 
      to ritual purity he shows that he does not understand what divides ritual 
      purity from moral impurity. Furthermore, he opens the door to accepting 
      some instances of every type of consensual sexual behavior. 
       
      HEARING THROUGH
      DIFFERENT EARS 
      THE SAME GOSPEL
       
      Via 
      complains that the position that I espouse results in the gospel being 
      heard in two different ways by heterosexuals and by homosexuals. 
      Heterosexuals get to actualize their heterosexual destiny in morally 
      responsible ways while homosexuals are not allowed to actualize their 
      homosexual “destiny” in any way. “Since you had the bad luck to turn out 
      gay, it is only fair to impose the added burden of denying you the 
      realization of who you are sexually” (p. 98).
      
           On one level the gospel is the same for everyone. All would-be 
      disciples of Jesus must, Jesus says, take up their crosses, deny 
      themselves, and lose their lives for his sake. Paul gave great attention 
      to this message in his constant refrain about dying with Christ to the old 
      human existence and living a reoriented life for God in the new creation 
      in Christ. So much for actualizing in responsible ways all our intense, 
      biologically related urges. Everyone must put to death everything of the 
      old self that runs counter to the will of God, for God is in earnest to 
      shape us in the image of Christ.
      
           On another level the gospel is indeed heard in different ways by 
      every individual. The call of the gospel will make different demands on 
      different persons because every individual carries his or her own set of 
      biological or social baggage and has a unique role in God’s overall 
      redemptive plan. Was it Jesus’ “bad luck” to be the Messiah and to have 
      imposed on him the “added burden” of dying on the cross for the sins of 
      the world? Paul had the “bad luck” of being called to a life of hardship 
      that few, if any, followers of Jesus have had to face. Was it fair of God 
      to impose on Paul the “added burden” of denying, on a daily basis, his 
      basic needs for food, clothing, shelter, and protection from severe social 
      abuse and violence, all for the cause of the gospel? Some persons have the 
      “bad luck” of turning out to be exclusive pedophiles, or of having 
      seemingly uncontrollable desires for multiple sex partners, or of growing 
      up without the kind of stable family environment that nurtures a capacity 
      for lifelong sexual commitment, or of finding sexual stimulation only in 
      coercive sexual activity, or of having a strong disposition for 
      alcoholism, or of being afflicted with a strong sense of insecurity and 
      distrust that makes faith in Christ difficult, or of being far more 
      susceptible to feelings of covetousness than most. On and on we could go. 
      It is wrong to be callous to the particular sufferings that people 
      experience as they “work at their own salvation with fear and trembling” 
      amidst God’s gracious work in them (Phil 2:12-13). But it is equally wrong 
      to give the impression that one person’s particular “bad luck,” as Via 
      puts it, justifies a circumvention of the gospel’s call or to convey that 
      a particular constellation of intense desires constitutes “who you are” 
      and establishes an inviolable, God-given “destiny.” A person who does not 
      experience homoerotic desires may be beset by other types of sinful 
      impulses that impose even greater burdens on an obedient Christian life. 
      Yet no one gets an exemption as regards death to self, whatever the 
      particularities of one’s individual life experiences. 
      
           The hope of the gospel message is that our identity is not found in 
      “who we are” in the flesh but rather in who God is shaping us to be in the 
      Spirit of Christ. Any other message, including a message of 
      moral-biological determinism, is a false gospel.
       
      
      © 2003 Robert A. J. Gagnon