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