[This essay will
appear in a very slightly revised form in Scottish Journal of Theology
(Cambridge University Press), likely in vol. 62:1 in Feb. 2009; © 2008
Scottish Journal of Theology Ltd.]
A Book Not To Be
Embraced:
A Critical Review
Essay on Stacy Johnson’s A Time to Embrace
Robert A. J.
Gagnon, Ph.D.
Associate Professor of
New Testament
Pittsburgh Theological
Seminary, Pittsburgh, PA 15206
Completed March 2008; posted on the web on
Sept. 30, 2008
For printing use the pdf version
here
I wish that I could
commend William Stacy Johnson’s book, A Time to Embrace,
as a rigorous and fair assessment of Christianity and homosexuality from a
homosexualist perspective.
Unfortunately, Johnson so regularly violates scholarly standards for
honesty and accuracy in representing secondary literature, conceals from
readers the most important counterarguments to his position, and shows
gaps in logic, that I cannot embrace A Time to Embrace. Given space
constraints, it is impossible to give a systematic presentation of the
book’s errors in fact or argumentation. I refer readers to my website for
material that could not fit here [see links at the end of the article just
before endnotes];
and for a
rejoinder to Johnson’s response that will appear shortly after Johnson’s
response is published.
Johnson’s book is
organized into an introduction and two major parts. The introduction
consists of brief discussions of analogies to racism and misogyny (5-12),
homosexual relationships in history (13-19), and socio-scientific study of
homosexuality (20-36). In Part One: Religion, Johnson develops his scheme
of seven theological viewpoints (39-108), where he discusses biblical
issues in an organizationally choppy fashion, and then continues the same
under the rubrics of companionship, commitment, and community (109-55). In
a smaller Part Two Johnson treats law and politics. This essay focuses on
Part One.
I. The Tone of
Johnson’s Book
II. Johnson’s
Misrepresentation of Scholarly Work
The most serious
charge that can be leveled at Johnson is that he repeatedly misrepresents
the work of others or misleads readers into thinking things about the work
of others that is inaccurate. In most of these instances it appears highly
unlikely that Johnson was unaware of what he was doing. Space does not
permit an exhaustive enumeration.
First, Johnson has
worked hard to conceal from readers the fact that most of the best
scholars who have studied the biblical texts on homosexual practice in
their historical context disagree that the Bible condemns only
exploitative forms of homosexual practice such as pederasty, prostitution,
or sex with slaves (what I call the exploitation argument). Revealing this
fact would have devastated the credibility of his exploitation argument,
given that Johnson is not a specialist in biblical studies or the
Greco-Roman world. Yet this would have been better than risking his
scholarly integrity. Two of many examples suffice to make the point.
Johnson cites Louis
Crompton’s 500-page Homosexuality and Civilization as ‘the single
best book-length introduction to the subject’ of how ‘same-gender
relationships have meant very different things … in divergent times,
places, and social contexts’ (12, 252 n. 46). Johnson makes this the key
pillar of his exploitation argument. Yet Johnson neglects to tell readers
that Crompton comes to a radically different conclusion:
According to
[one] interpretation, Paul’s words were not directed at “bona fide”
homosexuals in committed relationships. But such a reading, however
well-intentioned, seems strained and unhistorical. Nowhere does Paul or
any other Jewish writer of this period imply the least acceptance of
same-sex relations under any circumstance. The idea that homosexuals
might be redeemed by mutual devotion would have been wholly foreign to
Paul or any other Jew or early Christian.
Johnson
puts the Crompton book at the top of a list of ‘must-reads’ so he must
have read these remarks. His unwillingness to disclose them contrasts
sharply with his zeal to cite an evangelical preacher, John Stott, who
says that ‘the biblical prohibitions by themselves say nothing about
[committed same-sex] partnerships’ (50, 264 n. 17).
Similarly, Johnson calls Bernadette Brooten’s Love Between Women
‘the definitive work on female homoeroticism in antiquity’ (271 n. 35).
He cites her favorably for his own treatment of the meaning of ‘nature’
(82, 268 n. 11). Yet Johnson fails to tell readers of Brooten’s rejection
of an exploitation argument. Brooten, a NT scholar and self-identified
lesbian, states: ‘The sources on female homoeroticism’ in antiquity
indicate that the early church ‘opposed homosexual behavior per se,’
‘regardless of age’ and ‘mutuality.’ Johnson does mention that Brooten
interprets Rom 1:26 as a reference to lesbianism but Johnson, who declares
this to be only a ‘possible’ reading (90), keeps readers ignorant of the
overwhelming case for it.
Such a referent would devastate Johnson’s exploitation argument since
lesbianism in antiquity did not normally emulate male exploitative
practices. Johnson also ignores what Brooten and I have to say about
Greco-Roman orientation theories concerning tribades (the active
female partners in a female homosexual bond) and kinaidoi (the
passive male partners in a male homosexual bond)
and claims falsely that the New Testament writers could not even have
‘anticipate[d] the category of sexual orientation’ (64).
Second, Johnson misrepresents John R. Clarke’s
Roman Sex: 100 B.C. to A.D. 250
when he says it confirms his exploitation argument (18, 255 n. 72). What
Johnson doesn’t tell readers is that Clarke’s chapter on ‘Gay Sex’ (pp.
76-93) focuses almost exclusively on two pictorial representations that
Clarke himself views as illustrating ‘equal, reciprocal, male-to-male
sex’: the famous ‘Warren Cup’ (15-30 C.E.) and a lesser-known, large agate
gemstone housed in Leiden (1st century B.C.E.). The Leiden
gemstone offers a particularly powerful image, showing a man anally
penetrating another man, with the man on the bottom having a large
erection and both men gazing directly into each other’s eyes.
Third,
Johnson misrepresents work done on Gregory of Nyssa when he claims that
two articles show that Gregory understood the implications of Gal 3:28c
for eliminating any significance to gender complementarity, which for
Johnson includes the allowance of homosexual relations. So, Johnson
claims, ‘the “it’s-always-been-read-that-way” argument … is not true’
(152, 295 n. 115).
Yet both articles show that Gregory understood ‘no male and female,’ when
applied to sexual behavior, as meaning abstinence from sexual relations,
not the allowance of homosexual relations. So long as humans have
sexually differentiated bodies and engage in sexual relations a
male-female prerequisite remains binding.
(1) Johnson reduces my complementarity
argument to ‘the body parts fit’ (115, 120, 275-76 nn. 14, 16; Review 390)
even though I repeatedly state that complementarity is to be taken in a
holistic sense involving not only anatomy but also physiology and
psychology—the whole package of what it means to be male and what it means
to be female.
He also claims that there is no evidence for the idea of anatomical
complementarity in antiquity despite the fact that I provide just such
evidence. As Hubbard rightly states, ‘basic to the heterosexual position
[in the first few centuries C.E.] is the characteristic Stoic appeal to
the providence of Nature, which has matched and fitted the sexes to each
other.’
(2) Johnson claims that by ‘sleight of
hand’ I ‘omit to tell the reader’ how tô‘ēbâ (‘abomination’) is
used outside the Levitical Holiness Code (285 n. 59). Yet I devote a full
three pages to this in a section entitled ‘The Meaning of tô‘ēbâ’
(117-20). Two of the texts that Johnson emphasizes (Gen 43:32-34; Exod
8:26) I mention only in passing because they report what Egyptians,
not Israelites, considered to be ‘abominations.’
(3)
Johnson states: ‘Gagnon gives us no persuasive reason why we should break
with tradition and ordain women but at the same time genuflect to
tradition in being anti-gay [read: anti-homosexualist]’ (294 n. 107).
Johnson omits telling readers the main arguments that I raise briefly in
my first book (443) and expand on elsewhere.
Simply put, affirmation of homosexual practice represents a radical break
with Scripture whereas the ordination of women merely carries further a
process already begun in Scripture. Already in the OT and especially in
the NT there are a number of women-affirming texts. We see nothing like
this kind of openness in Scripture’s stance toward homosexual practice;
indeed, we see the opposite. Moreover, while OT and NT writers were
generally more affirming of women than was the norm for the ancient
Near East and Greco-Roman world, respectively, they were much less
accommodating to homosexual practice. Finally, an attempt at equating sex
or gender with a homosexual impulse confuses categories. Being a woman,
unlike a homosexual impulse, is 100% congenitally determined and
essentially immutable. Moreover, it is not a direct or primary desire for
behavior that is incompatible with embodied structures and strongly
prohibited in Scripture. Homosexual desire is. Scripture rightly views sex
or gender as closer to the condition of ethnicity than to persistent
sexual desires. As we shall see (sec. VI), a more appropriate analogy to
affirming committed homosexual unions would be an argument to support
committed adult incest or sexual bonds involving three or more persons.
Johnson claims in his Review that my citations from Aristophanes’ speech
in Plato’s Symposium (ca. 380 B.C.E.) and the speech of
Callicratidas in the pseudo-Lucianic Affairs of the Heart (ca. 300
C.E.) are irrelevant because they are too distant from Paul’s time and
because ‘both are satirical’ and non-egalitarian (390).
The Symposium, however, was well known in the first century. Philo
of Alexandria cites it but still dismisses all forms of homosexual
practice as unnatural: ‘Nearly the whole of Plato’s Symposium is
about love, not merely about men mad after [i.e. madly in love with] men—for
these desires pay tribute to the laws of nature—but about men (mad)
after males, differing from them only in age’ (Contemplative Life
59).
Johnson ignores my point that even if Aristophanes’ speech were taken as
satire it would still ‘reflect or play off of the positive view of
same-sex eroticism expressed by Phaedrus and Pausanias and current among
some in antiquity.’
Aristophanes refers to men who are lovers of males as those ‘who continue
with one another throughout life. . . . desiring to join together and to
be fused into a single entity with his beloved and to become one person
from two’ (192E). Pausanias, who was a lover of Agathon (a relationship
that began when Agathon, now 31, was 18 years old), similarly emphasizes
that lovers who love rightly ‘are prepared to love in the expectation that
they will be with them all their life and will share their lives in
common,’ ‘as if having been fused into a single entity with’ the soul of
the beloved (181D, 183E). Consistent also with Aristophanes’ image of
exclusive homosexual desire as an inherent trait is this remark of
Pausanias: Men who love males ‘are not inclined by nature (phusei)
toward marriage and the procreation of children, yet are compelled to do
so by the law or custom (nomos)’ with the result that two joined
males ‘live their lives out with one another unmarried’ (192A-B; my
translations). As for Callicratidas’ speech, one may charge Callicratidas
(the defender of male-male love) with falling short of the philosophical
ideal in his personal conduct but not with attempting to lampoon loving
same-sex male relationships. Were it otherwise, Lycinus, the arbiter of
the debate with Charicles (the defender of male-female love), would not
have declared Callicratidas the winner (51).
The
space constraints of this essay permit here only a few examples of loving
homosexual relationships in the Greco-Roman world. In Plutarch’s
Dialogue on Love (late 1st - early 2nd century C.E.) Protogenes argues
that man-male love is superior, not because it is more hedonistic but
because, instead of having ‘as a net result the reaping of the fruits of
pleasure (hēdonēn),’ it ‘comes through friendship to the end and
goal of virtue’ (750D; 4). Pisias infers that while ‘it is doubtless
fitting (for women acting) with discretion and moderation neither to love
passionately nor to be loved passionately,’ it is a different matter with
a male beloved (752C; 6). Daphnaeus, defending the superiority of
male-female love, concedes that homosexual relationships are not
necessarily exploitative, for ‘sexual intercourse that is contrary to
nature with males does not do away with, nor damage, a lover’s kindness
[or: amorous goodwill]” (751C; 5). Yet, he declares, even when ‘the
(intercourse) that comes about from (the joining of) males’ is done
‘willingly,’ it remains ‘shameful’ (aschēmōn) since males are,
‘with softness (malakia) and effeminacy (thēlutēs),
surrendering themselves, according to Plato, “to be mounted in the custom
of four-footed animals” and to be sowed as if to produce children (paidosporeisthai),
contrary to nature’ (para phusin; 751D-E; 5; my translations).
Two
second-century C.E. romances—Xenophon of Ephesus’ An Ephesian Tale
(3.2) and Achilles Tatius’s Leucippe and Clitophon (1.7-8, 12-14,
33-34)—both include tragic love stories about similar-aged, male lovers.
Relationships of a different sort but still attesting to commitment are
reported in Rome by the epigrammatist Martial (ca. 40-104 C.E.; 1.24;
12.42) and by the satirist Juvenal (early 2nd c. C.E.; Satire 2):
effeminate men who willingly commit themselves as ‘brides’ to another man.
For example, Gracchus, ‘a man renowned for his family background and his
wealth,’ became the ‘bride’ to a common cornet-player and signed
semi-official documents (Satire 2.119, 125, 129).
Lucian of Samosata (mid-2nd c. C.E.) tells of two rich women
who regard themselves as married, the masculine Megilla of Lesbos and her
‘wife’ Demonassa the Corinthian (Dialogues of the Courtesans 5).
The astrologer Ptolemy of Alexandria (2nd c. C.E.) refers to manly women
born under a certain constellation who are ‘lustful for sexual relations
contrary to nature’ and take the active sexual role with women whom they
sometimes call their ‘lawful wives’ (Tetrabiblos 3.14; §171-72).
Several rabbinic texts forbid marriage of a man to a man; one referring to
Egyptian practices even forbids marriage of a woman to a woman (Sifra
on Lev 18:3).
Clement of Alexandria likewise referred to ‘women … contrary to nature …
marrying women’ (Paidagōgos 3.3.21.3). These marriage texts presume
that some in the ancient world are seeking a committed same-sex
relationship.
Hubbard notes that Greco-Roman ‘literature of the first century C.E. bears
witness to an increasing polarization of attitudes toward homosexual
activity, ranging from frank acknowledgment and public display of sexual
indulgence on the part of leading Roman citizens to severe moral
condemnation of all homosexual acts.’
If even sectors of the ‘pagan’ world were beginning to develop absolute
opposition to all forms of homosexual practice, what is the likelihood
that any Jew or Christian would have made exceptions for committed
homosexual unions, given the absolute opposition of Jewish Scriptures?
IV. Johnson on Genesis 1:27 and 2:18-24
Johnson argues that ‘male and female’ in Gen 1:27 refers only to
the fact that ‘both male and female are created in God’s image,’ connoting
‘inclusivity and not sexuality per se’ (116, 277 n. 20). Johnson cites 38
other times in the OT where the phrase allegedly has only this inclusive
sense. It turns
out that nearly all of these either use the phrase “male or female”
(’ô)or don’t even use
the words for “male” (zākār) and “female” (nĕqēbâ) but
instead distinct words referring to male slave(s) and/or female slave(s),
male goats and female goats, or female donkeys and male donkeys. A few of
his references use the Hebrew words for male and female but with
intervening prepositions with or without the conjunction “and.”The only verses that use the precise formula
zākār űnĕqēbâ): Gen 5:2 and 6:19; 7:3,
9, 16. The last four appear in the story of the Flood and refer to the
animals going into the ark by twos, ‘male and female,’ whereas 5:2
introduces a genealogy from Adam to Noah’s children that fulfills the
command in Gen 1:28 to ‘be fruitful and multiply’ (5:3-32; cf. 6:1). The
reference to sexual pairing can scarcely be denied. In fact, Johnson
unknowingly admits as much when he declares that Gal 3:28c alludes to Gen
1:27 and overturns ‘not just one’s status as male or female’ but
‘the pairing of male and female’ (150).
Johnson misreads things when he argues that ‘reducing “image of God” to
sexuality’ is wrongheaded because animals too are characterized by sexual
differentiation or gender complementarity (275 n. 16). It is not a
question of reducing the ‘image of God’ to sexual differentiation but
rather of recognizing that in Gen 1:27 human sexual differentiation and
pairing are uniquely integrated into God’s image. This integration
makes it possible for humans to enhance or to efface that image through
their sexual behavior in a way that is not possible for animals. Also
misguided is Johnson’s argument that connecting the ‘image of God’ with
sexual differentiation leaves out single persons, including Jesus (115-16,
276 n. 16). It is legitimate to speak of the two sexes as complementary,
and so incomplete, representations of God’s image in the restricted
sphere of sexuality without denying the broader integrity of an
individual’s creation in God’s image. Both Jesus and Paul viewed the
single state as a non-moral deficit, not a sin (Matt 19:10-12; 1 Cor
7:7-8, 25-40). However, active entrance into a structurally incongruous
union is a moral violation that assaults the image of God stamped
on humans. The logic of a same-sex sexual bond is that each partner is
only half his or her own sex, which unites to form a whole male or a whole
female. Such a union dishonors the integrity and completeness of one’s
maleness, if male, or femaleness, if female.
Jesus
obviously predicated his opposition to after-divorce remarriage and, by
implication, polygyny on the ‘twoness’ or binary/dimorphic character of
human sexuality (contra Johnson, 139). There is no other reason for Jesus
to cite from Gen 1:27 just the clause ‘male and female he made them.’ Two
and only two, Jesus insisted, become one flesh: ‘so they are no longer two
but one flesh’ (Mark 10:8). That Jesus derived the number two from the
God-ordained twoness of the sexes given at creation is evident from a
similar move by the Essene community at Qumran. It rejected ‘taking two
wives in their lives’ because ‘the foundation of creation is “male and
female he created them” [Gen 1:27]’ and because ‘those who entered
(Noah’s) ark went in two by two into the ark [Gen 7:9]’ (CD 4.20-5.1).
For Jesus the twoness of the sexes in sexual pairing, ‘male and female,’
was prior to and foundational to any insistence that sexual bonds be
limited to two persons.
Paul
clearly had Gen 1:27 in view behind his main indictment of homosexual
practice in Rom 1:24-27. There are eight points of correspondence, in a
similar tripartite order, between Rom 1:23, 26-27 and Gen 1:26-27:
human, image, likeness; birds, cattle, reptiles; male, female.
Gen 1:26-27
Rom 1:23, 26-27
This
intertextual echo back to Gen 1:26-27 is reinforced by the fact that the
context emphasizes God’s role as ‘Creator’ (1:25) and the knowledge about
God and ourselves culled from observation of ‘nature’ (1:19-20, 26-27).
What is the point of this echo? Idolatry and same-sex intercourse
constitute an assault on the work of the Creator in nature. Those who
suppress the truth about God transparent ‘since the creation of the world’
are more likely to suppress the truth about the complementarity of the
sexes, male and female, transparent in nature. This echo also makes clear
that Paul’s main problem with homosexual practice was not that it was
typically exploitative or promiscuous, as Johnson claims, but that it was
a violation of God’s will for male-female pairing established in
creation.
As
regards Gen 2:18-24, Johnson argues that the ’ādām’s exclamation at
the creation of woman (2:23) ‘does not celebrate her otherness but her
sameness’ (120): ‘This one at last is bone from my bones and flesh from my
flesh! To this one shall be given the name “woman” (’iššâ) for from
man (’îš) this one was taken.’
Johnson’s argument makes an either-or out of a both-and. The first half of
Gen 2:23 does stress, in part, human sameness in contrast to the animals,
among which God had not found ‘a helper as [the ’ādām’s]
counterpart.’ Yet Johnson ignores the repeated references in 2:21-23 to
woman being formed by a ‘taking from’ ’ādām. As a ‘counterpart’ or
‘complement’ to man (kĕnegdô),
woman is both similar as human (‘corresponding to him’) and different as a
distinct sex extracted from him (‘opposite him’). There is also some basis
for translating Hebrew [tsēlā‘)
as ‘side’ rather than ‘rib’
or at least as an indeterminate amount of bone and flesh on one of ādām’s
sides, from which is formed man’s sacred side or complement, woman.
The principle of two sexes becoming one flesh is correlated with the
picture of two sexes being formed from one flesh. It is not another man
that is the missing part or sexual complement of a man but rather a woman,
a point reflected in several early Jewish texts (Philo of Alexandria,
Allegorical Interpretation 2.19-21 and Creation 152; 4 Macc
18:7; Apocalypse of Moses 29:9-10).
Johnson argues that ‘one flesh’ in Gen 2:24 has the asexual meaning ‘the
same family’ since the formula ‘you are my bone and my flesh’ is ‘more
about kinship than sexuality’ (Gen 29:14; et al.; 145-47). In response:
First, introducing a sexual dimension in some covenantal relationships
violates the covenant. An obvious case in point is the very example that
Johnson uses to validate homosexual unions, Ruth and Naomi. Had
Ruth and Naomi engaged in sexual intercourse they would have committed a
capital offense of incest between parent and daughter-in-law, irrespective
of their loving commitment (Lev 18:15; 20:12). Sexual bonds have
their own distinct set of requirements.
Second, context dictates meaning. When we use the comparable phrase ‘you
are my flesh and blood,’ it means something different when spoken by a
husband to his wife (a sexual context) than when spoken by a parent to a
child, a brother to a sister, or a friend to a friend.
Third,
the specific expression ‘one flesh’ does not appear anywhere else
in the OT or in early Jewish or early rabbinic texts apart from a
reference to Gen 2:24. This makes it unlikely to have been an expression
for denoting covenant bonds outside a context of man-woman marriage.
Fourth, it takes a determined effort to ignore the fivefold reference in
2:21-23 to forming woman by taking from the ’ādām a part of
him. The ’ādām declares not merely that the woman ‘is my bone and
my flesh’ but, more, that the woman ‘is bone from my bones and
flesh from my flesh … for from man this one was taken’
(2:23). What is missing from the ’ādām (human), who is now an
’îš (man), is the part that God has built into a woman. In this
context ‘one flesh’ clearly implies the restoration of the two divisible
parts into an indivisible whole, not just ‘the same family.’
This
is certainly how Jesus and Paul understood Gen 2:24. The meaning ‘same
family’ would not restrict the number of participants to two, since
families are not limited to two members. Yet both Jesus and Paul (1 Cor
6:16) understood ‘one flesh’ unions as properly restricted to two. Having
additional sexual partners violates the principle that a man-woman sexual
bond creates a self-contained whole that ought to admit of no third
parties. In this context talk of ‘cleaving’ must have its deepest sense of
reuniting through a committed sexual bond what was once a single entity:
the two, ‘male and female’ or ‘a man’ and ‘his woman/wife.’
V.
Johnson on Gal 3:28c: ‘there is no “male and female”’
According to Johnson Gal 3:28, which alludes to Gen 1:27c, makes sexual
differentiation irrelevant in the sphere of sexual relations
(147-52). Problems for Johnson’s interpretation arise not just from the
fact that the early church would have unanimously abhorred any link
between this baptismal formula and homosexual practice; or from the fact
that not even Johnson takes the parallel antinomy ‘there is no Jew nor
Greek’ absolutely. The chief problem is that applying ‘no “male and
female”’ to sexual relations spells the end of such relations altogether,
not the irrelevance of a male-female prerequisite.
Jesus
defined Gen 1:27 and 2:24 as foundational for sexual relations. One
could choose to opt out of a male-female marital bond. But then the only
other option would be to become like ‘eunuchs who were born thus from
their mother’s womb’ or ‘eunuchs who were made eunuchs by humans’; that
is, as people who are not having any sexual relations (Matt
19:11-12). Similarly, those who opt out of male-female marriage would be
like the angels who ‘neither marry nor are given in marriage’ (Mark 12:25;
cf. Luke 20:34-36).
The
Corinthians likely understood ‘no “male and female”’ to mean not only a
greater openness to women’s roles in the church (a point with which Paul
partly agreed) but also a celibacy requirement (cf. 1 Cor 7).
There is also evidence that later proto-gnostic circles similarly
interpreted an alleged saying of Jesus about making the two sexes one so
that there is no longer any male and female (Gospel of Thomas
22:1-4; Gospel of the Egyptians 5b, cited in Clement of Alexandria,
Strom. 3.92; and 2 Clement 12:2-3).
Paul agreed that if applied to sexual relations ‘no “male and female”’
would mean ‘no sexual intercourse.’ Indeed, this view may have influenced
Paul’s choice of celibacy. Paul disagreed with the Corinthian pneumatics,
however, that application to sexual relations was mandatory this
side of the eschaton; that is, prior to receiving sexually
undifferentiated resurrection bodies.
As
William Loader argues, for Paul Gal 3:28c ‘is not a negation of either
gender or sexuality [in the present], but a statement of equal worth
before God in Christ.’
‘Ultimately, … when marriage and sexual relations, which belong to the
order of the present age, pass away (as in Mark 12:25) … maleness and
femaleness … will also cease to play a role.’
Allowance of male-female marriage and encouragement of sexual relations
within marriage represented for Paul an abeyance or temporary
suspension of ‘no “male and female”’ in the sphere of sexual relations,
not an implementation. Consequently, Paul can contend with perfect
consistency that ‘men who lie with males’ risk not inheriting the kingdom
of God (1 Cor 6:9-10).
VI.
Johnson’s Rejection of Formal or Structural Prerequisites for Sexual
Relations
Although Johnson rejects analogies between adult-committed homosexual
practice on the one hand and adult-committed incest and polyamory on the
other, his own arguments pave the way for such an analogy by eliminating
any consideration of prerequisites for sexual intercourse based on formal
or structural bodily correspondences. A centerpiece of his thesis is his
claim that ‘gay couples are just as capable as straight couples of
embracing all three’ of the ‘fundamental realities’ that marriage is
designed to promote: ‘companionship, commitment, and community’ (110; cf.
111-13, 121-23, 136-37). Johnson likes the repetition of three C’s but
unfortunately leaves out one: ‘complementarity,’ understood as formal
compatibility or congruence in the embodied structures of the
participants. Johnson’s main problem lies in treating ‘companionship,
commitment, and community’ not only as necessary but also as
sufficient for sexual relationships.
Faithful polyamorous sexual bonds and adult incestuous bonds would also
qualify under Johnson’s truncated test for valid sexual relationships.
Indeed, faithful polyamorous bonds provide a greater amount of
companionship and bring the community into the covenanted relationship
through a larger number of committed sexual partners, while incestuous
bonds tie a double family knot by combining blood ties with sexual union.
When Johnson cites the covenant relationship between Ruth and Naomi as a
paradigm for same-sex sexual bonds (143-47), he appears not to
realize that had Ruth and Naomi introduced sex into their adult-committed
covenant relationship, they would manifested covenant disloyalty
(even though no procreative problems could have arisen from the incest).
Homosexual relations similarly violate structural prerequisites for a
complementary other. Two men or two women can enter into a covenant bond
as siblings (in the case of David and Jonathan; cf. 2 Sam 1:26: ‘my
brother Jonathan’)
or as parent-child (in the case of Naomi and Ruth) but not as sexual
lovers.
Many
other arguments used by Johnson could easily be applied to acceptance of
committed, adult polyamory and incest. According to Johnson: ‘To posit a
single “order” [of creation] that is supposed to hold true for all time …
is at best a quixotic dream’ (50-51). ‘To reduce the relationship … to the
sexual intimacy they may (or may not) be sharing is just as offensive and
wrong-headed as declaring that heterosexual marriage is all about sex and
nothing else’ (63). ‘[O]ne cannot learn about the meaning of sexuality
merely from examining nature’ or ‘merely from examining the sex act’
(100). ‘Sin does not reside in orientation or behavior per se but in
whether one’s life is rightly ordered’ (108; cf. 101). ‘God defies our
ordinary religious categories’ and ‘acts contrary to what seems natural’
to accept those who are ‘sexually unclean,’ asking them only to put aside
‘sexual hedonism’ (98-99). ‘We know that Jesus’ way of keeping the law
defied convention’ (105). One has ‘the right to marry the person one
loves’ (182).
It is
important to note here that I am not making just a ‘slippery slope’
argument, though Johnson is providing both the slope and the grease. The
argument that I am making is that, if Johnson finds the acceptance of
adult-committed polyamory and incest offensive, he should find
adult-committed homosexual bonds even more offensive. The twoness of the
sexes ordained by God at creation was the foundation for Jesus’ limitation
of the number of persons in a sexual bond to two. Similarly, the
prohibition of incest is analogically derived from the prohibition of
same-sex intercourse. Incest involves an attempted sexual merger with
someone who is already too much of a formal or structural same on a
familial level. The degree of formal or structural sameness is felt even
more keenly in the case of homosexual practice because sex or gender is a
more integral component of sexual relations, and more foundationally
defines it, than is and does the degree of blood relatedness.
Johnson makes only sparse and convoluted attempts at explaining why
committed adult incest and polyamory do not deserve to be validated on the
same grounds that he is validating homosexual unions. Counting endnotes he
gives no more than three paragraphs to the question of incest (258 n. 107,
282-83 n. 52, 289 n. 69) and two paragraphs to the question of polygamy
(169-70, 301 n. 51). Johnson appears to be opposed to incest only where a
non-adult is involved or where conception is possible, for these are the
only circumstances that his discussion addresses. By this test any adult
homosexual-incestuous union should be allowable (cf. Johnson’s analogy of
Ruth and Naomi). As regards polyamory, he ignores its roots in a male
polysexual orientation and claims, falsely, that polygamy is
intrinsically harmful. Johnson’s naďveté about the disproportionately
high rates of harm that attend homosexual practice is in inverse
proportion to his hyper-criticism of harm attending committed polyamorous
bonds.
VII.
Johnson’s Scheme of Seven Theological Viewpoints
Johnson puts forward a scheme of ‘seven theological viewpoints’ on
same-gender relationships in chs. 1-2 (39-108) that consists of three
‘non-affirming viewpoints’ (prohibition, toleration, accommodation), three
‘welcoming and affirming viewpoints’ (legitimation, celebration,
liberation), and, not surprisingly, his own viewpoint, which he calls the
‘welcoming, affirming, and ordering viewpoint’ (consecration) and presents
as the ideal Hegelian synthesis of the best of the thesis and antithesis.
The scheme is essentially a reworking of a typology developed by L. R.
Holben seven years earlier:
Johnson claims that ‘in presenting this typology’ he simply wants ‘to
promote understanding’ and to take ‘something of value’ from each (41).
Yet what Johnson really wants is to undermine the notion that there are
only ‘two views on the subject, a biblical view and a nonbiblical view’
(ix), so that he can take the main focus off of the anti-scriptural
character of all homosexualist readings. Indeed, by placing the
‘prohibition’ view on one end of a seven-view spectrum he creates the
illusion for readers that this view represents an extreme position
even though, properly understood, it not only embodies the scriptural
position but also remains the dominant position of the worldwide church.
By contrast, Johnson treats his own view (consecration) as a category
distinct from the ‘welcoming and affirming viewpoints’ and falsely claims
that it takes the best from both the non-affirming and affirming views
(95, 97, 108).
A
person who buys into this scheme could be brought to a position on
homosexual practice similar to Johnson’s without ever having to give
serious consideration to numerous arguments against a homosexualist
interpretation. Such a person will not want to appear to hold an ‘extreme’
view on the subject and so will choose what the scheme itself treats as
centrist, namely, Johnson’s own ‘welcoming, affirming, and ordering’
‘consecrationist’ viewpoint. But Johnson’s scheme is all smoke and
mirrors. Here are the five main problems with this scheme.
First,
various forms of sexual immorality, including adult-committed incest and
polyamory, could be made to look reasonable by the adoption of this kind
of tendentious scheme, which artificially stretches out the number of
viewpoints from two basic ones to seven, places the scriptural and
historic position of the church at an extreme end, and offers a ‘rightly
ordered’ viewpoint as embracing the best of all possible worlds.
Second, Johnson’s so-called ‘consecration’ viewpoint should not be treated
as a ‘new,’ distinct, and bridge-building seventh viewpoint but rather as
the usual mode for expressing any of the other homosexualist viewpoints.
Few in the mainline denominations have been advocating for ‘hedonistic’
homosexual behavior over the past decades so there is nothing new or
distinctive in Johnson’s position. Nor is it any more bridge-building than
an ‘ordered’ stance on polyamory or incest would be bridge-building
between pro- and anti-positions. Espousing faithful polyamory, incest, and
homosexual practice does not ‘preserve the best’ of a stance against these
behaviors, as if the need for formal or structural prerequisites were not
essential to such opposition.
Third,
Johnson’s attempts at characterizing differences between so-called
‘prohibitionist’ and ‘tolerationist’ positions lead to absurdities.
Prohibitionists
Tolerationists
Creation Homosexual
desire a deliberate choice No choice involved in
homosexual desire
Reconciliation Repent even of homosexual
desire Repent only of homosexual behavior
Redemption Homosexuals must become heterosexuals Homosexuals
live a life of Stoic abstinence
None of these
positions make sense as alternative views. The causes of homosexuality are
multifactorial and can include: congenital influences (usually indirect),
micro- and macrocultural influences (family, peers, broader society),
personal psychology, and incremental choices (some blind and some
deliberate). Neither a total ‘free will’ model nor a total
‘predestination’ model accurately reflects current scientific evidence (as
Johnson himself has to admit). Furthermore, the idea that one must repent
for the mere experience of sinful desire is as absurd as the idea that one
need not repent of entertaining sinful desire in one’s thought life.
Equally absurd are the alternatives ‘all homosexuals must become
heterosexuals’ or ‘no homosexuals can ever experience any shift in
same-sex attractions.’
There are indeed
differences among those who uphold a male-female prerequisite for sexual
relations regarding such things as membership, ‘homophobia,’ ‘gay rights,’
and how serious a sin homosexual practice is. However, these differences
cannot be traced to identifiable groups that follow their own distinct
pattern of interconnected positions on ‘creation,’ ‘reconciliation,’ and
‘redemption.’ Certainly so-called ‘tolerationists’ do not dispense with an
argument from creation/nature (contra Johnson). Nor is it the case, as
Johnson supposes, that the more opposed to homosexual practice one is the
more ignorant one must be of the literary and historical contexts for
Scripture or of what science tells us. In addition, the labels
‘non-affirming,’ ‘prohibition,’ and ‘toleration’ are all in different ways
skewed to advance Johnson’s argument. Finally, if Johnson is going to
pretend that most ‘affirming’ positions do not have ‘ordered’
relationships in view, he could just as well add a ‘God-hates-homosexuals’
viewpoint on the extreme end of ‘non-affirming’ (read: complementarian)
views. The ‘prohibitionist’ approach can then be correctly viewed as
taking a moderate, loving approach to homosexual persons that rejects the
living out of same-sex attractions as harmful and self-dishonoring to the
participants.
Fourth, Johnson’s ‘accommodation’ viewpoint is neither significantly
distinct from his ‘legitimation’ viewpoint nor rightly listed as a
‘non-affirming’ view. A position that offers support for committed
homosexual relationships and permits the ordination of homosexually active
candidates is functionally little different from any other
homosexualist position.
Fifth,
Johnson’s attempt at distinguishing a ‘celebration’ view from a
‘liberation’ view purely on the basis of an essentialist versus
social-constructionist distinction is unjustified. No material difference
exists between ‘celebration’ and ‘liberation’ in Johnson’s
‘reconciliation’ and ‘redemption’ vectors; only ‘creation’ is affected.
Moreover, both essentialists and social constructionists can be found
among the ‘accommodation,’ ‘legitimation,’ and ‘consecration’ viewpoints.
In
short, Johnson’s scheme of seven viewpoints is too tendentious and flawed
to be of any heuristic value.
Conclusion
In
this short review essay we have not come close to delineating all the
problems with Johnson’s book. However, the subjects that we have
covered—examining the inconsistency of Johnson’s rhetoric and tone, his
frequent misrepresentations of secondary literature, his lack of knowledge
about committed homosexual relationships in Greco-Roman primary source
material, his misunderstandings about the creation texts and Gal 3:28, his
apparent rejection of the concept of formal or structural prerequisites
for sexual relationships, and his tendentious scheme of seven theological
viewpoints—raise serious issues regarding Johnson’s scholarship.
To go to “More
Reasons Why Stacy Johnson’s A Time to Embrace Should Not Be
Embraced: Part II: Sodom, Leviticus, and More on Jesus and Paul,” click:
pdf:
http://robgagnon.net/articles/homosexStacyJohnsonMoreReasonsCritique.pdf
html:
http://robgagnon.net/homosexStacyJohnsonMoreReasonsCritique.htm
To go to “More
Reasons …: Part III: Science, Nature, History, and Logic,” click:
pdf:
http://robgagnon.net/articles/homosexStacyJohnsonMoreReasons3.pdf
html:
http://robgagnon.net/homosexStacyJohnsonMoreReasons3.htm
Endnotes
Johnson might retort that
these are not good examples because they do not illustrate a marriage
between two masculine men. Yet Johnson’s own support for the GLBT
cause shows no particular alarm over very effeminate behavior by
males.