Principalities and Powers (1)
(Part 1 of 2)
There was a time when I would occasionally do a “cleanse” of my system with a robust jeremiad against the latest folly of the Episcopal church. Though I have eschewed this indulgence in recent years, this is not to be taken as a sign that I now think that the Episcopal Church has found its way back to theological health, or that I am reconciled to its deviations from historic faith and worship. Perusal of the Presiding Bishop’s Easter Letter confirms that these problems remain as obstacles to full fellowship in the faith.
The Rt Rev Sean Rowe seems to be a sensible church leader, and he says nothing to cause the orthodox reader to have an apoplectic fit; but in line with his recent forbears, his Easter letter is a reductionist account of the gospel, interpreted through the matrix of the progressive social agendas of our time. He focuses, legitimately, on the women at the tomb on Easter morning, but he introduces them with the claim that they were “the last protectors and pastors at the cross on Good Friday”. It’s a claim I surmise is intended to bolster the case for women’s ordination; but to describe them in these terms has no scriptural warrant; the only “protective and pastoral” action that was taken by anyone at the cross was taken by Jesus himself (towards his mother and the penitent thief.) The description of the women in these terms is thus an example of eisegesis rather than exegesis – reading his own meaning into Scripture rather than reading the out of Scripture the meaning which Scripture intends; and this use of eisegesis puts the reader on the alert.
Rowe is on firmer ground when he says the women were “the first to witness and proclaim the resurrection”; and also that “in their … world, they were on the margins, and their word counted for nothing”. Both true. And again, one may accept (with some qualifications), Rowe’s claim that “for Jesus, the vulnerable and marginalized are in focus, and his ears are attuned to their voices”. The compassion of God and of Christ for the despised and afflicted is well attested in Scripture. But then comes an eisegetical conclusion: “therefore … let us always remember that the kingdom of God is revealed to us most clearly by those who are dispossessed by the powers and principalities of this world. Let us celebrate the joy of Easter by seeking and serving the resurrected Christ in the lives and the witness of those who have been silenced, persecuted, and marginalized”.
It’s a subtle move the reader might easily overlook; for the Bible does attest that the revelation of God is often made to those who are low status in this world. But in Rowe’s eisegesis, the mere fact of their being “silenced, persecuted, and marginalized” makes their “life and witness” – their experience and perspective as oppressed persons – a locus and source of revealed truth. This is a religious version of a standard progressive move, to privilege the experience of a putatively oppressed or marginalized group over all other truth-claims. It’s the logic whereby (for instance) the claims of biologically-male transgender persons (because they are classed as oppressed and victimized) trump the rights of biological females to women-only sports and spaces. It’s the logic whereby Palestinian Arabs are counted as victims and Jews (even non-Israeli Jews) as oppressors. This is the simplistic and dichotomizing moral calculus that legitimizes the victimization of putative “oppressors” by their putative “victims”. It legitimizes new forms of oppression (the atrocities committed against Israelis and the abuse of Jews on American campuses; the take-over of women’s sports by biological males) that are worse than the ones they replace. This moral calculus has been soundly criticized in recent years – though you would never guess that from the Easter letter. In the progressive bubble-world, there is no need to engage with other views.
The Bible does say that God has chosen those whom the world despises to receive his revelation (“thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes”, Matthew 11:25). It does not say that the experience of those despised by the world is authoritative by the mere fact of their low status. For example, the Israelite slaves and ex-slaves in Exodus were often faithless witnesses to the will and work of God. It’s not their experience that makes the perspective of marginalized persons authoritative – it’s rather that their experience makes them more open to receiving the revelation of God (1 Corinthians 1:27). It’s a fine distinction, but a crucial one. One arrogantly absolutizes my experience and perspective; the other humbly stands under a revelation to which my experience makes me open.
To be continued