Marriage

Postcards from the Marriage Wars – Part Three

The last time I examined the issue of same-sex marriage, it was by way of a response to the (predictable) views of a Fairfax journalist. However, it is one thing to hear from commentators on this issue; quite another to listen to those directly embroiled in the matter. Perhaps they have a unique insight that mere pundits lack. Roger Munson, a Uniting Church minister who conducted a wedding ceremony between two men during the ACT’s brief interregnum on SSM, is one such individual. Here he is in his own words, explaining his reasons for supporting such a momentous shift:

“Jesus never said anything against people who are homosexual…Jesus always welcomed people, had compassion and never judged people…These people should be allowed to marry because they want to express their love for each other through a public right as anyone else does.”

Leave aside the fact that Jesus’ personal opinion of homosexual individuals hardly settles the public policy debate regarding the nature of marriage; Mr Munson’s views are nevertheless likely to appeal to those of a more liberal persuasion (by the by, it’s interesting that one Christian can be feted for holding views that the Left has already embraced, whilst another Christian can be howled down and accused of illegitimately trying to inject religion into a public debate if he so much as breathes a conservative sentiment). I have already talked about the possible pitfalls of trying to ground marriage in the subjective and transient (if intense) emotions that exist between two people, so I won’t cover old ground. Suffice it to say, it seems that Mr Munson assumes precisely this: people who wish to marry should be able to “…because they want to express their love for each other.” Note the consequential word, “because”: marriage should in effect be afforded to those who declare their love for each other, based precisely on this quality. According to Mr Munson (if his stated view is any indication), the only thing required for a marriage to be codified is the presence of such feelings. On its face, this view is compelling, generous, open and seductive. It reflects the mores and norms of a permissive, liberal age, and is likely to be celebrated with increasing enthusiasm. There’s just one, small problem: it’s wrong. And it’s wrong on several counts, not least of which is Mr Munson’s analysis and application of Jesus’ alleged views. It is upon this particular dimension of Mr Munson’s argument that I wish to focus.

Now, Mr Munson is absolutely correct that Jesus never said anything explicitly about homosexuality – or at least it’s true that the evangelists never mention Jesus saying anything about it. We simply have no record of Jesus’ utterances on the matter. But that’s the first problem; suggesting that Jesus never said anything about homosexuality as a way of legitimising SSM is an argument from silence. Arguments from silence, I should point out, are notoriously feeble. Because the gospels – the only records we have of Jesus’ putative teachings – are so brief, we simply have no way of knowing whether Jesus did have anything to say about the matter. So basing one’s support for homosexual relationships upon the apparent silence of the founder of Christianity is fraught with difficulty. The most we could say is that if Jesus said anything bearing upon homosexuality specifically, the evangelists – for reasons known only to themselves – decided to omit it from their writings. Moreover, I am sure many people can think of other instances of (purported) moral impropriety – behaviour that might well attract near-universal criticism – about which Jesus was absolutely silent. A few examples come to mind; whilst attracting widespread opprobrium today, they are things on which we have no (expressed) opinion from Jesus. Ought we tale his silence on those matters as synonymous with approval? My point is that arguments from silence trade in ignorance – in this case, ignorance about what Jesus actually thought when it came to the question of homosexual acts.

But Mr Munson’s citation of Jesus’ (apparent) silence regarding homosexuality runs into another difficulty – namely, that it seems to reflect a fairly simplistic view of theological ethics. Let me explain. To ground (at least in part) the legitimacy of an act in Jesus’ silence on a particular matter is to give credence to the idea that ethical truths – in this case, prohibitions – are to be found only in explicit commands. But this is false, both in terms of ethics generally, and biblical ethics specifically. Surely Mr Munson knows that, when it comes to a biblically-informed ethical worldview, narrative substructure and underlying perspective are just as important as any explicit endorsement or proscription. This is germane, for once one introduces Scripture’s underlying narrative or ethical worldview, things take on a decidedly different complexion (as we shall see). Ironically, Mr Munson’s view seems to represent the worst kind of “reverse” proof-texting – the obverse of the sort of superficial ethical reasoning for which fundamentalist Christians are regularly (and often rightly) castigated. But of course, when such thinking is pressed into service to shore up presently accepted norms and mores, people are willing to overlook its demonstrable woolly-headedness.

* * *

These are just preliminary remarks, of course. But they point to intrinsic weaknesses in Mr Munson’s position. Moreover, and contrary to what Mr Munson seems to think, I believe that it’s possible to suggest – at least with some justification – what Jesus might have thought about the vexed question of homosexuality. I cannot argue that this case is “air-tight”, for the argument from silence can be a double-edged sword: that Jesus didn’t say anything about homosexuality means that we cannot be certain – at least from the biblical evidence before us – that he condemned it outright. Still, by examining what Jesus did say about sexuality generally, as well as clear-headed reflection upon the religious-ethical matrix within which he and his primary interlocutors operated, I think we can reasonably suggest that Jesus held to what would now be seen as a “conservative” position on matters sexual.

To begin, Jesus’ comments on sexuality do reveal his views fairly clearly – and, by implication, his views on homosexuality. Take, for example, his debate with a contingent of Pharisees on the question of divorce in Matthew 19. His opponents come to him in order to test his devotion to the Law of Moses (v.3). There are interesting contextual roots to this discussion, pertaining to the differing interpretations of the relevant OT material. Two schools of thought, congregating around the rabbis Hillel and Shammai, debated the meaning and scope of passages such as Deuteronomy 24:1. The former was more liberal in his interpretation of the verse, particularly its references to “displeasing” and “indecent”, whilst the latter adopted a more restricted understanding of legitimate grounds for divorce.

Jesus’ reply to his interlocutors, however, seems to bypass this internecine debate entirely. Indeed, he seems to point to the central meaning of the marriage covenant. Over and against this kind of rabbinic minutia, Jesus holds fast to the underlying ideal of marriage, as outlined in Genesis 1:27 and 2:24, by stating in vv.4-6 that marriage was always meant to be the lifelong, one-flesh union between a man and a woman. If one were to say that Jesus didn’t explicitly rule out other kinds of couplings, it would appear that, implicitly at least, he did. Note verse 4, where Jesus quotes specifically from Gen 1:27 – humanity was created male and female. NT scholar Craig Blomberg, in commenting on this passage, has said that the Genesis text set the paradigm, by which “heterosexual, monogamous marriage” was established “as the most intimate of interpersonal relationships and as the only relationship in which sexual union was appropriate” (emphasis mine). The creational ideal, it would seem, meant the distinction between male and female – or sexual complementarity, if one wants to use contemporary language – as the underlying basis for the one-flesh union. The Genesis texts, which the Matthean Jesus took to be foundational and authoritative, offer us a picture of marriage marked by two, intrinsic features: sexual distinction; and fleshy union (i.e., sexual intercourse). It encompasses these complimentary dimensions as structural elements of its own reality. To say, then, that this is the ideal (as Jesus seems to have done), is to implicitly screen out other sexual combinations and permutations, whether they occur within, or beyond, the constraints of some kind of formalised commitment. This includes SSM; however much Mr Munson might like to believe that Jesus would have no problem with two men or two women marrying each other (assuming that such an event is ontologically possible in the first place), it seems that the data contained in the gospels present a rather different picture.

Mr Munson, and those who have trod this path before, might want to argue that even if Jesus presented marriage in these terms as the divine ideal, his silence on homosexuality specifically might reflect a lack of interest in the subject. But this represents a failure to take into account the context within which Jesus and his opponents operated, and the influence it likely had on the shape and complexion of the debates that took place. Let’s take Jesus first. His reliance upon the OT’s premier text as a way of cutting through the debate over divorce suggests that, whatever else might be said, he saw the Hebrew Scriptures as authoritative. Indeed, Jesus’ reliance upon the Genesis texts to make his case functions as a window through which we may glimpse his embrace of the OT’s normativity – particularly as it pertains, in this case, to sexual relations. Take Matt 5:17-20, for example, where Jesus spoke of his relationship to the Hebrew Scriptures, and the implications his coming had for its authority. Certainly, the advent of Christ meant (to some extent) the radical redefinition of the Torah and its place in the life of the people of God. But his words in this passage do not indicate that it was thereby abolished. Quite the contrary, in fact. Jesus declared the ongoing legitimacy of the “Law and the Prophets”, even as he fulfilled them. And this would have included everything pertaining to sexuality generally, and homosexuality in particular. Far from abolishing the law, or diluting its force, Jesus actually intensified it.

As noted, there are debates over what place the OT plays in the life of the church today, and how it is to be applied. Furthermore, Christological fulfilment meant, in some case, the rescinding of certain laws (think food laws). But it cannot be said that Jesus dismissed the authority of the OT as a result of his ministry, or implied that its ethical strictures – including those related to sexual relations – were thereby null and void. The Sermon on the Mount clearly illustrates the point; there, in talking about matters such as murder and adultery, Jesus deepened the righteous requirements to which disciples were beholden (Matt 5:21-30). He certainly contrasted his teachings with those found in the OT. However, he did not present a new, liberalised application of Torah, but rather something that went beyond the outward acts proscribed by the Hebrew Scriptures. The point is that on the evidence, it seems unlikely that Jesus would have held anything less than an orthodox understanding of the authority and interpretation of the OT. This has important implications for his views on sexuality. Even though the evangelists did not record anything Jesus might have said about homosexuality, his general attitude towards the OT suggests that he would not have endorsed it.

As a good Jew, Jesus would not have been unusual in this understanding; many, if not most, of his co-religionists and ethnic kin believed the same. This brings me to the other side of the historical-contextual coin: the beliefs and attitudes of Jesus’ interlocutors (whether hostile or otherwise) towards sexuality and sexual relationships. Far from being a strange omission, Jesus’ apparent silence on the matter of homosexuality is easily comprehensible – perhaps doubly so, when one takes into account his own (likely) attitudes – in light of the social, religious and cultural matrix within which the bulk of his ministry occurred. The main recipients of his mission, it would seem, were fellow Jews. To be sure, Jesus made occasional forays into Gentile territory, and spoke with non-Jews. Moreover, his ministry seemed to provide the guiding resources – and indeed, the theological legitimacy – for later missionary activity within largely Gentile areas. That said, it seems reasonably clear to me that Jesus directed most of his vocational energy towards his fellow Jews – urging them to be the Israel of God they had been called to be, and to turn with penitence towards their true sovereign. From the perspective of the evangelists, first-century Israel had many problems, but acceptance of homosexual practices was not one of them. Similarly, and despite its pluriform character, first-century Judaism was unanimous in its rejection of same-sex acts. If Jesus’ ministry took place largely within this context, it is hardly surprising that he should not mention anything on this topic. Arguing that Jesus’ silence in this regard is morally significant is like claiming that an archbishop’s silence on the question of papal authority amongst a gathering of priests has any bearing on whether the Pope is the acknowledged and infallible head of the Catholic Church. For first-century Jews, the moral propriety of homosexuality was uncontroversial, precisely because of it near-universal rejection. It was simply a given – part of the assumed “plausibility structures” of the Jewish worldview, in other words. As such, if Jesus was silent on the issue, we do not have to wander terribly far to discover why.

* * *

Mr Munson’s views are neither new nor revolutionary. Rather, they simply reflect the dominant cultural and sexual narrative in today’s West. His Christological invocation, besides being simplistic and naïve, is little more than a veneer, masking a position that has been formed on quite different grounds. The “givenness” of sexual differentiation, as reflected in the biblical narrative (and which seems especially clear at key points) has given way to an individualised conception of marital relations – one that is largely based upon the pattern of desires and attractions of the participating individuals (whoever they may be). To be sure, Mr Munson is free to disagree with a biblical theology of marriage and the underlying significance of sexual difference. But one thing he is not free to do (logically speaking, anyway) is to pretend that a view owing much to late-modern Western constructions of sexuality and individual choice is, in fact, deeply and authentically Christian. Apart from anything else, I have tried to show that any such pretensions founder on the rocks of biblical and theological reality.

Advertisements

Postcards from the Marriage Wars – Part Two

It wouldn’t be long before same-sex marriage made its way to Australian shores. Slowly, inexorably, it has lumbered towards a point of mass acceptance. Of course, the issue, as something discussed and fought over, has been alight for a number of years now (providing much fodder for media outlets). What I am talking about, however, is changes to the institution of marriage itself. For a few fleeting moments, SSM was a reality in this country – gaining a foothold in that strange little enclave, the Australian Capital Territory, late last year. That it proved to be a temporary victory for proponents of SSM is, I believe, immaterial. A new threshold has been crossed, and I think the debate – at least for social conservatives, orthodox Christians, and others of their ilk – has already been lost. And although we might have reached a new phase, it seems to represent the culmination of forces that have been gathering pace for some time. That, however, is an essay for another time.

News outlets carried pieces on what took place in the ACT, as well as on the issue more generally. I have read a number of reports related to these developments, but in this article, I want to concentrate on a piece written by a journalist for The Age. It is not unique, of course; others have been offering these arguments for many years. But it is representative in its approach, and so I shall use it as a touchstone, so to speak, with which to engage current attitudes and mores.

I turn, then, to a series of articles written by Sam De Brito, whose writings appear in The Age and other Fairfax newspapers. A little while ago, he wrote an open letter to Fred Nile, the staunch Christian conservative and NSW state parliamentarian. In it, he chided Rev. Nile for “picking and choosing” when it came to interpreting and applying the various commands of Scripture – in particular, that part of the Bible Christians call the Old Testament. The implication was that the leader of the Christian Democrats was not taking his own holy book seriously – happy to deny certain “rights” to homosexual couples (which De Brito seemed to imply was the result of Rev. Nile’s own prejudices), whilst conveniently setting aside Scripture when it came to thornier questions that might cause some discomfort. In a follow-up article (“The Alternative Ten Commandments,” The Age, December 6th, 2013), De Brito wrote that his main “beef” was with Christians who, according to him, inconsistently apply the Bible’s injunctions. He went on to criticise – maybe “mock” is more appropriate – that most-vaunted of religious legal codes, the Ten Commandments.

One wonders how De Brito would have reacted had he encountered a Christian who accepted the Bible’s command to care for the poor and destitute (e.g. Exodus 22:21-22; 23:2-3; Proverbs 21:13, 15), whilst rejecting its prohibitions against homosexual practices. I for one suspect he would be less concerned about theological and interpretative inconsistency. In any case, there are a number of problems with De Brito’s views – as rendered in his second article – which all evince a desperate lack of biblical understanding, and a commitment to caricature over serious analysis. I will turn to those particular calumnies in a later article.

In recounting email exchanges with angry Christians, De Brito says that he was confronted with a number of emails that:

“…predictably descended into…arguments that without God’s word to follow on issues like who we can shag in the privacy of our own homes…”.

The characterisation of sex as a private activity is, as we shall see, relevant. Elsewhere in his writings on marriage, De Brito seems to recognize the public nature of that particular bond. Indeed, it is precisely the public dimension of the institution of marriage – and the consequent recognition couples are accorded by virtue of their participation in it – that so animates supporters of SSM like Sam De Brito. Now, it is perhaps the case that De Brito’s reference to “shagging” and the like was, in fact, a crude rendition of some of the arguments made by his interlocutors. His stated views regarding marriage would, as I said, suggest some kind of acknowledgment regarding its public dimensions. But what, then, of his views on sex? According to De Brito, sexual union is reduced to the act of “shagging” in one’s home. That he emphasises its private nature is evidence that he thinks of it as nobody else’s business. Moreover, in view of the fact that he includes the exhortation to be a “good shag” in his alternative Decalogue, as well as a pointed self-reference as a never-married father, it would seem that De Brito thinks of marriage and sex as being two, distinct realities. Indeed, he appears to think that sex and marriage can be decoupled and grounded in quite separate ways, with no essential connection between them. What ought one to make of this?

First, I should point out the obvious: sex, as a discrete act, is itself a private thing. That hardly needs saying, and I am not implicitly advocating voyeurism. But its representative and symbolic overtones possess a public-social dimension, and have public-social ramifications. Take heterosexual sex, for instance. A man and a woman may come together, either for a night or for a lifetime. What they do in the bedroom is, to the extent that it involves the two of them, private. However, what if that union results in the conception and birth of a child? And what if the temporary coupling took place between people who were otherwise unknown to each other – a “one night stand”, in other words? The sex act, in itself, was indeed private, cloistered. But its consequences, if they included the birth of a child (for example), would be anything but. This, of course, is a little different to the discussion at hand, but goes some way to showing that sexual union cannot be seen as private in an absolutist sense. Not only in its possible consequences, but also in its meaning – which is often shaped by broader social and cultural forces – is sexual intercourse a more-than-private reality. It is inevitably caught up in a whole raft of relationships, networks, social constructions, etc., whilst also having the potential to create new relationships, networks and social links through its inherent generative potential (not to mention the possible physiological and psychological consequences that may flow from the sex act). Marriage, in this respect, is not aberrant. It doesn’t artificially map an institutionalised framework upon an otherwise private relationship; rather, it seeks to recognize what is already an embedded, essential reality about (hetero)sexual unions.

It is this connection between marriage and sex that forms one of the major planks in traditionalists’ efforts to uphold the idea of marriage as a union between a man and a woman. Such an understanding recognizes the complimentary nature of the heterosexual union, which is both comprehensive in itself and inherently geared towards reproduction. Of course, I realize that not all male-female couples choose to use their unions for the purposes of having children. Others, through no fault of their own, are unable to have children. However, aside from the intrinsically comprehensive nature of the heterosexual union (at a basic biological and systemic level, the bodies of males and females seem, for want of a better word, “designed” for each other), it alone amongst the various unions available to people is capable of generating children. It is an inescapably social bond, embracing the children that issue from it, as well as the social world that will one day be influenced by those children. Robert P. George, a professor of jurisprudence at Princeton University, writes:

“Moreover, marriage (again unlike ordinary friendships) is a matter of public concern and not merely of the private interests of spouses. That is because marriage brings together a man and woman as husband and wife to be father and mother to any children born of their union.”

The institution of marriage simply codifies a unique biological reality, thereby providing a safe environment within which children may be reared and raised. Conservatives have every reason to preserve this institution, given its importance as a framework within which healthy, well-adjusted individuals may be socialised.

Now, back to Sam De Brito. His argument seems to involve a contradiction: on the one hand, he upholds the idea of marriage as, in some sense, a public institution – one that (presumably) should be available to all, regardless of the sexual permutations and combinations that compose individual unions; but, on the other hand, he seems to suggest that sex – which, historically, has been seen as an inescapable component of marriage as traditionally defined – is little more than a private transaction: “shagging” in one’s bedroom, as it were (of course, De Brito would likely say that it can be more than that, by arguing that it is often an expression of the love that exists between two [or more?] people. True; but if can be other than this, to which many a drunken one-night stand testifies, then it cannot be defined by it. Thus, the only relevant commonalities between the various incarnations of legitimate sex acts he envisages are physical union, consent and privacy). It seems that, based upon these incongruous conceptions of marriage and sexual union, he has castigated Christians for worrying endlessly about what gays and lesbians do in private. Maybe some have. But the nub of the issue is the essence of marriage, as a public institution and as an entity with certain properties. In other words: what is marriage in itself (if anything), and what are the (public, social) consequences of attempts to change it? De Brito, in trying to offer a critique of Christians’ views on the matter, seems to have parsed private sex acts and a legalised form of union that is anything but.

De Brito, I submit, appears to be viewing sex and marriage as separate entities, in that either can be practiced without reference to the other (at least consistently; of course, people are free to have sex without marrying one another, whilst couples who have been joined together by a minister or celebrant are free not to consummate that union). However, the question is whether marriage, in particular, can be defined apart from sex. De Brito may want to say that sex need not be a part of the definition of marriage. If the latter is simply the legalised expression of love and commitment between people, and can rest on nothing more than those bonds of affection (however expressed), what else is needed? Similarly, De Brito seems to think that a person’s sexual proclivities can be enjoyed apart from the encumbrances of marriage. Indeed, most people these days would probably agree. As a simple statement of reality, this is uncontroversial. But, to then imply that sexual activity is not an essential component of marriage (which one would likely have to do in such circumstances), forces one into philosophically ambiguous territory. Once again, we are dragged back to what seems to be the centre of this debate, even if it is unacknowledged by many of its participants: what the institution of marriage actually, essentially is.

Indeed, one might legitimately ask: what is the institution of marriage for, if it does not include, as part of any such conception, the importance of sexual activity? What distinguishes marriage from other types of relationship, if not the significance of sex? And if it is connected to sex, then questions regarding the nature of those sex acts, and whether any and every form of sexual expression can provide a basis for marriage, become exceedingly relevant. I have suggested that marriage is inescapably heterosexual, precisely because of the uniqueness of the sexual bond that consummates it. It would seem that marriage, at least from De Brito’s recent writings, is a kind of public commitment, where participants enjoy the privilege of being able to seal their pledges of love and devotion in a legal, recognized fashion. Sex, apparently, is irrelevant – at least in terms of how marriage is defined. Ironically, however, it’s partly because of the sexual nature of homosexual relationships that calls for their recognition have arisen in the first place. I doubt very much whether they would be seen as anything more than particularly intense kinds of friendship if they weren’t expressed, at least in part, through sexual intercourse. Absent this factor, the grounds for recognizing such relationships as in any way different from friendship, generally conceived, would be very weak indeed. De Brito wants to keep sex away from prying eyes and moralistic busy-bodies, but seems not to notice the inescapable connection – wherever one sits – between sexual intercourse and the calls for public validation. To be sure, I do not think that marriage can be founded upon any and all kinds of sexual unions. As I have suggested, heterosexual union alone provides the basis for marriage, precisely because no other type of coupling is inherently capable of producing the next members of a community or social group. I merely point out the layers of incongruous thinking that seem to characterise De Brito’s position: yearning for homosexual couples to be given the right to marry, and yet implying that the very element which has helped generate such claims in the first place – i.e. sexual activity (generally conceived) – has only an accidental relationship to the institution.

Of course, the issues go beyond relatively recent calls for “marriage equality” (a term to which I object, for reasons I shall not go into). More specifically, they go beyond whatever Sam De Brito has written on the subject. His views simply seem to be the outgrowth of a particular cultural narrative, which, in the course of securing freedom of sexual expression, decoupled sexual activity from marriage. The current conception of marriage – which appears to screen out any reference to the creation of a suitable environment for the raising and socialisation of children – owes a great deal to the thoroughgoing romanticisation of love, as well as the deep individualism that prevails in our society. Love is seen as a profusion of emotions and romantic feelings for [an]other person[s]. Thus, on the one hand, sex (of whatever kind) is regarded as a private activity between consenting adults, completely severed from the overarching structures of the marital institution. On the other hand, marriage itself is defined as a kind of contract into which private individuals enter – now seen as a particularly intense form of (codified) companionship, one might say. It could still be argued – superficially – that marriage is public, in the sense that wedding ceremonies are performed before others, reflective of the socio-legal recognition bestowed upon such a relationship. But having severed the substantive elements from the institution, new conceptions of marriage are forced to rest upon the private intentions of those parties entering into such a relationship.

Once more, we witness the attempted fusion of incongruous ideas – the triumph of fashionable thinking over a coherent point of view. In this case, it’s the transformation of marriage into a special form of companionship that most rankles, as proponents of SSM like De Brito seek to dilute the institution. In trying to widen the scope of marriage in order to provide recognition to homosexual couples, views such as De Brito’s end up relying upon a privatised notion of contractual union. Marriage isn’t conceived of as the formation of a unique type of relationship, within which future generations of people may be created and socialised. At best, the sexual and generative features of marriage are subordinate to the (private) feelings of romantic love that exist, and only exist, between the individuals concerned. In other words, marriage has no reality external to the bonds of affection that happen to be exist between individuals; it is reduced to the presence, or actuality, of those feelings. In the absence of the objective reality of sexual complementarity and its inherently generative properties, such unions must be content to rest upon the current emotional states of their participants.

This isn’t merely a question of abstract definitions. If it were, then no more would need to be said. But ideas, as we know, have consequences – and the social consequences of views like De Brito’s, if enshrined in law, may well be disastrous. Nor is it about SSM per se. Rather, the burning issue relates to the deeper ideological and philosophical currents giving rise to calls for “marriage equality” in the first place. What I am referring to are the implications of contemporary views on marriage, particularly as they concern its privatization and underlying emotionality. SSM may be a product of such currents, but its ascendancy would, I think, codify them as the legal basis upon which marriage is founded. Gone would be the understanding of marriage as a bond that is uniquely and inherently capable of issuing in children (who will influence their communities, for good or for ill). In its place would sit a version of the institution that rests, almost entirely, on the normalisation of emotional and physical companionship. Its ongoing legitimacy would only be guaranteed by the bonds of emotion, whilst the objective dimension of marriage would be lost – devolved to the personal feelings of the individuals involved. But how robust a foundation does this provide? Emotions are, as we have all observed, notoriously unstable; they ebb and flow, emerge and recede. One minute, a person might be overwhelmed by feelings of love for another; the next, he might regard that person with relative indifference. How stable are marriages likely to be if they are based upon little more than the feelings of the coupling individuals? Once all external (philosophical) bases for marriage are removed – which seems inescapable if the conjugal conception of marriage is rejected – what else is left but the internal emotional processes that people possess? It hardly needs to be said how destructive divorce can be for all involved – especially children. Trying to root marriages in the transience of one’s private emotions, however, is surely asking for trouble in years to come. Those early feelings of infatuation can subside (sometimes quickly), to be replaced by something more dour, and less romantic. Marriage is, of course, difficult work, and defining it according to one’s emotional state is to turn it into something that is essentially, inherently unstable. If marriage is little more than the outgrowth of affection between two (or more) people – which seems to be all that’s left once traditional conceptions are rejected – what should we say about the reality of that union if such affection disappears? What should we say if and when such unions collapse, causing heartache and anguish for all involved? And what should we say if the children of such failed unions find themselves burdened in life by the fraying of those native bonds of affection?

To take just one example: the increased incidence of drug and alcohol abuse amongst young people from broken families. The conservative “Heritage Foundation” has documented the rates of alcohol, cigarette and illicit drug abuse amongst such youths. In a series of articles that draw from a wide variety of research, the think-tank found that children and adolescents from intact families all had significantly lower rates of alcohol, cigarette, marijuana and cocaine use than did their peers from families that had been fragmented through divorce (see, for example, Patrick F. Fagan and Robert Rector, “The Effects of Divorce on America,” June 5, 2000). Research, therefore, strongly suggests that children from homes sundered by divorce are more likely to engage in them. And yet, trying to corral marriage in the aforementioned way, so that it is forced to rest upon the (transient) emotional states of the participating individuals, is simply welcoming that destruction at some time in the future – perhaps not for every individual, or even for every marital union, but certainly for some. If marriage is grounded in nothing more than such states, and is normalised accordingly, it does not bode well for the survival of many such relationships. What is more, one cannot ignore the baleful ripple effects that ensue if such marriages break-down. However, the confused, contradictory view of marriage that De Brito (and others like him) propounds undermines a bond that is, in many ways, essential to human flourishing. Unfortunately, however, it appears little is able to prevent this view from now being enshrined.

Woman and Wisdom: Reflections on Proverbs 31:10-31

Here is another essay that I wrote for my Old Testament class earlier this year. It concerns the literary relationship between Proverbs 31:10-31 and the rest of the book of Proverbs. Enjoy!

Introduction

The relationship between Proverbs 31:10-31 and the rest of the book has long been a vexatious question for commentators. Despite perennial uncertainty, there exists a certain literary kinship, at once subtle and multifarious. Characterised by recurring verbal and metaphorical motifs, Prov. 31:10-31 fittingly concludes Proverbs – linked to both the compendium of ethical maxims for which the book is most famous, and its deeper, structural worldview. The ways in which the passage brings closure to Proverbs will be unfurled in the following analysis. After a brief exegetical survey, this essay will explicate the passage’s concluding role under three, broad rubrics. First, it will show that the subject of Prov. 31:10-31 is valorised as an exemplar of the wise and virtuous living commended by the book’s main section. Second, it will consider how the passage offers an embodied picture of Wisdom, tapping into the feminine imagery that pervades the book. Third, it will suggest that Prov. 31:10-31 – particularly when seen in light of the book’s intended audience – consummates the entire vision of Proverbs with an epitome of Wisdom’s loving embrace.

Exegesis

Prov. 31:10-31 opens with a rhetorical exclamation of the high value of the ideal woman (v.10);[1] what follows is a paean to this individual. The question of whether she is specifically identified as a wife (or merely a woman who happens to be married) is, at this point, immaterial. That she is a woman is, as we shall see, of deep, structural importance. In any case, she is presented as a blessing to all who fall within her beneficent orbit. Her husband is completely enriched by her, and consequently, is able to flourish (vv.11-12, 23).[2] Subsequent verses offer a digest of the ennobling heights this woman reaches: she faithfully cares for her family (vv.15, 27), and works with vigour and industry (vv.14, 17-19); her labours span both the domestic and public spheres of life (vv.15-16, 18); and her actions and speech are characterised by integrity (vv.25-26). More than a maelstrom of activity, the woman plans ahead, and with considered judgment makes a profit on her work (v.16). Changing circumstances do not disturb her, for she uses foresight to respond to them (v.21). The ideal woman “laugh(s) at the days to come,” harnessing wisdom in the pursuit of successful living (v.25b). It is not just her family that is blessed (cf. vv. 27-28): this woman is generous to the poor (v.20), and her servants are cared for (v.15). Her circle of concern thus extends beyond her kin, and for that she can be seen as just and righteous. Punctuating the poem is a number of verbs evoking a sense of controlled energy.[3] Together, they construct a picture of someone who is engaged in constant, though profitable, activity (v.27b).

However, the universal wisdom this woman uses is not merely secular or profane. The poem’s climax praises her as one “who fears the Lord” (v.30).[4] Echoing what has been dubbed the motto of the entire book (1:7; cf. 10:27), the author extols the wisdom that flows from, and is oriented towards, an acknowledgement of God. Remaining within the sphere of godly devotion informs the woman’s acts towards others.[5] It channels, drapes and shepherds true understanding about one’s position in God’s creational and moral order.[6] This is but one (important) linkage between Prov. 31:10-31 and the rest of Proverbs, reflecting its role as an appropriate conclusion to the book.

Prov. 31:10-31 – an Exemplar

Most obviously, Prov. 31:10-31 showcases a woman who practices the wise advice commended in the pages of Proverbs. Specifically, it poetically describes many of the qualities the book repeatedly exhorts, whilst also offering subtle evidence against the folly that is consistently denunciated. A short review reveals the many connections between Prov. 31:10-31 and book’s main body (10:1-29:33). The kind of foresight the woman displays is frequently upheld (30:25). So, too, is her industry (10:4; 12:11). Verses encouraging justice for, and generosity towards, the poor, find expression in the woman’s openness to the needy (18:5; 19:17). King Lemuel’s wise sayings, immediately preceding Prov. 31:10-31, encourage its audience to “…defend the rights of the poor” (30:9b). We may also cite those passages that speak well of wise speech (10:19-21; 15:2), not to mention commendation – both implicit and explicit – of marriage to a wise woman (14:1; 12:4; see esp. 18:22). This last category of wisdom sayings is particularly pertinent, for, as will be shown, the eulogizing of the woman of Prov. 31:10-31 is quite deliberate when viewed in terms of the book’s intended readership.

Space prevents a more thoroughgoing analysis. However, it is clear that, far from being merely an epilogue, separated from Proverbs’ main collection of adages, Prov. 31:10-31 weaves those adages together into an artfully constructed literary individual. Like the tributaries of a great river, the seemingly disparate sayings of Proverbs eventually merge into a unified picture of enlivening sagacity. The ideal woman is offered as an exemplar, a paragon, of wise living;[7] a dramatic figure who, in her work and character, reflects the virtues repeatedly commended in the book’s main body.[8]

Proverbs 31:10-31 – an Embodiment

Probing deeper, the ode of Prov. 31:10-31 taps into Proverbs’ foundational structuring of wisdom and wise living, which find extended expression in the book’s first nine chapters. In so doing, it helps to frame Proverbs with the substantive reflections of Chapters 1-9. This is made clear, firstly, by the aforementioned inclusio pertaining to “fear of the Lord” (31:30; cf. 1:7).[9] That alone suggests that Prov. 31:10-31 should be read as one part of a literary frame, orienting Proverbs theologically. Other linkages imply that the woman of the passage in question is to be seen as more than a pristine exponent of wise living. Indeed, the linguistic inclusio reflects the reality of a broader metaphorical framework, tying the beginning and end of Proverbs together.[10]

Most germane are specific echoes, found in Prov. 31:10-31, of wisdom’s personification in the book’s longer sapiential reflections. Through periodic interludes, Proverbs 1-9 presents wisdom in decidedly feminine terms. Lady Wisdom constantly beckons her audience to a life of wisdom (e.g. 1:20-33; 3:14-17; 8:1-36), offering herself up as a dazzling distillation behind such an existence. She is wisdom’s guardian and an attribute of God, submitting the resume of cosmic creation as evidence of her claims (8:22-31).[11] There are several, allusive connections between the ideal woman and Lady Wisdom: both see wisdom and fear of the Lord intermingling within the female persona (1:29; 31:30);[12] like Lady Wisdom, the ideal woman is compared with precious jewels (3:14-15; 31:10);[13] and the ideal woman is to be “found”, just like Lady Wisdom (3:14; 31:10; cf. 18:22). More subtly, both figures bestow riches upon those who are near, building homes and supplying feasts (8:18; 9:1-2; the entire tenor of Prov. 31:10-31).[14] These verbal cues are held together by the overarching use of feminine imagery, which suggests the subject of Prov. 31:10-31 functions as an embodiment of Wisdom herself.[15]

To be sure, the woman of Prov. 31:10-31 is not to be equated with Lady Wisdom, as if they were one and the same persona under different guises. Whilst Lady Wisdom is presented almost prophetically[16] – publicly beckoning all people to accept her teaching – the ideal woman is more interested in wise activity; she is not seen primarily as a teacher.[17] Conversely, although Prov. 31:10-31 depicts its subject as a mother, Lady Wisdom is never imagined in these terms. Caveats notwithstanding, the implications of the forgoing analysis are profound. The presentation of the ideal woman in Prov. 31:10-31 allows the passage to hook itself into the sapiential substructure of the book. Having been described in feminine terms, Wisdom now “re-appears,” – this time, incarnated as a woman. Though historicized and literal, the ideal woman is such that the boundaries between her and Lady Wisdom blur.[18] The power of cosmic creation has become embedded in the labours of an individual.[19]

Wisdom personified directs her readers to the anthology of Prov. 10:1-31:9, which then find concrete expression in a woman par excellence[20]she of Prov. 31:10-31. The passage climactically fulfils the book’s honouring of Wisdom: manifesting, not only the disparate pieces of sapiential truth already surveyed, but also the underlying unitary wisdom personified in (for example) 8:1-36.[21] As if to underscore the ideal woman’s status as such an embodiment, Wisdom’s antithesis is also given voice: Dame Folly (see 9:13-18, for e.g.), and her historicized counterpart, the female stranger (5:1-6; 7:1-27).[22] Chapters 1-9 present the intended audience of Proverbs with a choice between wisdom and folly, life and death. If Lady Wisdom promises the former, then Dame Folly, with her alluring (yet deceptive) words, reflects and offers the latter.[23] They consistently encourage the pursuit of Lady Wisdom; Prov. 31:10-31 completes the lesson – offering a subtle rebuke to the siren song of Dame Folly – with a dramatic portrait of Wisdom-in-action.

Proverbs 31:10-31 – an Epitome

To say that the ideal woman is an embodiment of Wisdom brings us to the book’s two-fold vision, and the consummating contribution that Prov. 31:10-31 makes to it. It is consistently upheld in the foundational chapters of Proverbs, and brought into sharp focus with the book’s final poem.

The subject of Prov. 31:10-31 acts as the literary capstone for the idea that wisdom, far from being an unattainable force, has condescended to the realm of ordinary human experience (cf. 8:31). As a contingent embodiment of Lady Wisdom, the ideal woman allows the book of Proverbs to unveil a most remarkable claim: that the cosmic wisdom of the Lord – the divine summons with which creation is suffused, and by which it was brought into being – is to be reflected and applied, even in the quotidian events of life.[24] The lofty apologia of Lady Wisdom, so beautifully unfurled in Chapter 8, is precisely the same power by which the ideal woman of Prov. 31:10-31 lives. Thus, she is more than the concretization of a metaphor; she is idealized evidence that the seemingly mundane aspects of human existence are to be governed and shaped by that which God used to establish the created order.[25] Although it is foreshadowed in Prov. 9:1-2, the totality of wisdom’s reach – even into domestic life – comes to complete expression in the book’s final poem.[26]

Simultaneously, it is precisely the domestic arena that links the ideal woman to the other part of the two-winged vision of Proverbs. That Prov. 31:10-31 centres upon kin and domicile suggests it is playing on the motif of domestic instruction Proverbs establishes in its early chapters.[27] Here, the intended male readership becomes particularly noteworthy. This audience, set within such an environment, is consistently implied (1:8; 10; 15; 2:1; 3:1; 4:1),[28] and the teaching of young men on the cusp of adulthood drives, in part, the goal of Proverbs.[29] Moreover, the book’s foundational chapters exhort their readers to pursue wisdom and reject folly[30] (see the programmatic statement, 1:1-6) – whilst also implying that wisdom (or Wisdom) is “wooing” them. Indeed, Proverbs envisions a kind of union, even “marriage,” between the book’s intended readership and the wisdom that has reached down to delight in humanity.[31] Wisdom is commended to it (male) readers with intimate language (4:5b-8);[32] she “loves” those who “love” her (8:17); and there are constant warnings against adultery, matched by a moving account of marital fidelity (5:15-20).[33] Marriage, then, is to be seen as kind of metaphor for Wisdom’s embrace, and the young men of Proverbs are called upon to reciprocate like a husband with his beloved.[34] Prov. 31:10-31 fits snugly into this goal, which ultimately explains her (and Lady Wisdom’s) femininity. Functioning on a plurality of levels, the ideal woman epitomises more than just the union between humanity and Wisdom; acting as a historicized surrogate for the object of the wise man’s pursuit, she is also presented as the epitome of the ideal marriage partner in this divinely-mandated project (cf. 14:1; 18:22).[35] Together, the wise man and the ideal woman are to be seen as reverently channelling the cosmic wisdom of God into the seemingly jejune (even secular) sphere of domestic life. Prov. 31:10-31 closes that vision by demonstrating the enduring fruits of such an aspiration.[36]

Conclusion

Despite the apparent disjunction between Prov. 31:10-31 and the rest of the book, the passage is actually a deeply integrated part of the message of Proverbs. More than that, it provides fitting closure to literature that repeatedly extols and commends the pursuit of divine wisdom. The window of literary inclusio allows us to discern the links between the subject of Prov. 31:10-31 and all that precedes her. Through her life, she functions as a paragon of the wise advice laid out in the main section of Proverbs. More deeply, we find a figure who climactically embodies the unifying power of Lady Wisdom, so beautifully personified in the book’s foundational chapters. These strands are woven together into an enlivening portrait of womanly wisdom-in-action for the lasting benefit of the implied audience of Proverbs – young men, who are urged to unite themselves with wisdom as a man expresses fidelity to the woman he loves. Thus, Prov. 31:10-31 showcases an individual who draws on the cosmic wisdom of creation to successfully fulfil her daily obligations, whilst also capping off the book’s entire, manifold vision with alluring evidence of Wisdom’s life-giving charms.


[1] Michael V. Fox, Proverbs 10-31: a New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (Anchor Yale Bible; New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009), 891. Throughout this essay, the woman of Prov. 31:10-31 will be called the “ideal woman.” Despite various translations (e.g. the woman/wife of noble character), uniformity is most prudent.

[2] John A, Kitchen, Proverbs: A Mentor Commentary (Ross-shire, Scotland: Christian Focus Publications, 2006), 712.

[3] A sampling: “brings,” “selects,” “provides,” “considers,” “grasps,” “opens,” “makes.”

[4] Derek Kidner, Proverbs: an Introduction and Commentary (TOTC; Leicester: Inter-Varsity Press, 1964), 15.

[5] Bruce K. Waltke, The Book of Proverbs – Chapters 15-31 (NICOT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005), 535. See also Frank E. Eakin, “Wisdom, Creation and Covenant,” Perspectives in Religious Studies 4, 3 (Fall, 1977), 231.

[6] Ronald E. Murphy, “Wisdom and Creation,” Journal of Biblical Literature 104, 1 (March, 1985), 7. See also Kitchen, Proverbs, 34; James L. Crenshaw, Old Testament Wisdom – An Introduction (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1998), 10.

[7] Bruce Francis Vawter, “Proverbs 8:22 – Wisdom and Creation,” Journal of Biblical Literature 99, 2 (June, 1980), 213.

[8] Kidner, Proverbs, 25.

[9] Leo Purdue, Wisdom and Creation: the Theology of Wisdom Literature (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994), 79. See also Roland E. Murphy, Proverbs (WBC; Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1998), 63.

[10] Murphy, Proverbs, 249. See also Vawter, “Proverbs 8:22,” 215.

[11] Murphy, “Wisdom and Creation,” 10.

[12] Ibid, 255. See also Tom R. Hawkins, “The Wife of Noble Character in Proverbs 31:10-31,” Bibliotheca Sacra 153, 609 (Jan-Mar, 1996), 16-17, for a list of similarities between the ideal woman and Lady Wisdom.

[13] Vawter, “Proverbs,” 216. See also Roland E. Murphy, The Tree of Life – An Exploration of Biblical Wisdom Literature (ABRL; New York: Doubleday, 1990), 27.

[14] Derek Kidner, The Wisdom of Proverbs, Job and Ecclesiastes – An Introduction to the Wisdom Literature (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 1985), 23. See also Claudia V. Camp, Wisdom and the Feminine in the Book of Proverbs (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1985), 189.

[15] Hawkins, “The Wife of Noble Character,” 15.

[16] Crenshaw, Old Testament Wisdom, 80.

[17] Fox, Proverbs 10-31, 908. However, see Prov. 31:26.

[18] Vawter, “Proverbs,” 205.

[19] Hawkins, “The Wife of Noble Character,” 18-19.

[20] Murphy, Proverbs, 11. See also Vawter, “Proverbs 8:22,” 205.

[21] Michael V. Fox, Proverbs 1-9: a New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (The Anchor Bible; New York: Doubleday, 2000), 293, 356. See also Hawkins, “The Wife of Noble Character,” 15.

[22] Murphy, Proverbs, 246. See also Waltke, The Book of Proverbs – Chapters 15-31, 519.

[23] Ibid, 282.

[24] Kathleen M. O’Connor, The Wisdom Literature, (Message of Biblical Spirituality; Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1988), 16.

[25] Perdue, Wisdom and Creation, 86.

[26] O’Connor, The Wisdom Literature, 17.

[27] Murphy suggests a village setting. See Murphy, Proverbs, 49.

[28] Crenshaw, Old Testament Wisdom, 24.

[29] Hawkins, “The Wife of Noble Character,” 13. See also Fox, Proverbs 10-31, 889.

[30] Ibid, 22. See also Murphy, Proverbs, 52; Murphy, The Tree of Life, 18.

[31] Murphy, The Tree of Life, 18. See also O’Connor, The Wisdom Literature, 61.

[32] O’Connor, The Wisdom Literature, 76.

[33] Kidner, Proverbs, 69. See also Fox, Proverbs 1-9, 207; Camp, Wisdom and the Feminine, 100.

[34] Perdue, Wisdom and Creation, 82. See also Kidner, The Wisdom of Proverbs, 22. Of course, this shouldn’t be taken to imply that wisdom was not for women also. Everything said about the ideal woman of Prov. 31:10-31 – including her very inclusion within the book of Proverbs – should be enough to disabuse one of that notion.

[35] Kidner, Proverbs, 69. See also Fox, Proverbs 10-31, 912. See also Murphy, The Tree of Life, 17; O’Connor, The Wisdom Literature, 79; Kitchen, Proverbs, 723.

[36] Ibid; see also Camp, Wisdom and the Feminine, 101.

Postcards from the Marriage Wars (Part One): The Golden President Turns on the Golden Rule

On May 9th, President Obama told a TV interviewer that he supports same-sex marriage (SSM). This came soon after his Vice-President, Joe Biden, said he was quite comfortable with the notion. I don’t know if that had anything to do with the President’s revelation. He himself has said that his views on gay marriage have been evolving. Right now, he appears to have reached the end of that evolution, though one wonders if his VP’s comments gave him a nudge in that direction. Whatever the case, my point is not to interrogate Obama’s reasons for revealing what he did at this time (some candour on this issue is rather refreshing, actually). Instead, I want to examine the the President’s rather lazy use of the so-called “Golden Rule”, which he pressed into service as a kind of secular theological way of justifying his position. Here are his exact words:

“…the thing at root we [Michelle and Barack Obama] think about is, not only Christ sacrificing himself on our behalf, but it’s also the Golden Rule, you know, treat others the way you would want to be treated”. (David Gibson, “Obama Backs Gay Marriage: Golden Rule Informs American Religion”, Huffington Post, May 11th, 2012. Emphasis mine).

That teaching is drawn from a portion of Jesus’ so-called Sermon on the Mount: “…do to others as you would have them do to you…” (Matthew 7:12). Sounds nice, doesn’t it? Perhaps we should treat others as we would want to be treated when it comes to the thorny, and divisive, issue of SSM. That way, we can all get along. It also seems superficially plausible: if we want to get married, then why should we deny that to others? The Golden Rule, it appears, commits us to this position – and all with the imprimatur of divine authority. Unfortunately, there are a number of problems with the President’s would-be Christian justification.

Most obviously, Obama’s reasoning falls flat due to a basic error. Taken to its logical extension, one might be able to advocate for just about anything, provided one was a supporter of the act in question. This is patently absurd. As Catholic philosopher, Francis Beckwith, has written, the Golden Rule “is not a quid pro quo for preference satisfaction reciprocity. Otherwise, it would mean that if one were a masochist, for example, then one should inflict pain on others” (“The President, Jesus and the Golden Rule,” Catholic Thing, 11th May, 2012).  Conversely, if one simply didn’t want to get married personally, one would have grounds for reversing Christ’s maxim and denying same-sex couples what President Obama clearly thinks is a sacred right (or rite) demanded by Christ himself. I mean, if I am treating others as I treat myself, and I don’t want to marry, then refusing gay couples the opportunity to do so is consistent with the logic of the President’s preference-based interpretation. If Obama can cite this verse to support SSM, one can easily cite it based upon one’s own, contrary preferences. Thus, any superficial usefulness it might have possessed collapses into incoherence.

Indeed, The President didn’t seem to realize that the Golden Rule, when used in such a lazily secular manner, does not settle the issue of the moral status of SSM. Employing Christ’s maxim as Obama did only works if one is already committed to the rightness of SSM. One first has to establish that something is a good before it can be said that the Golden Rule impels one to extend that good to another. The problem lies in the fact that President Obama used this verse as a foundational reason for his support of gay marriage (note his words above: “…the thing at root…”). It is question begging, since it already assumes – without reason or explanation – the normative status of SSM. Now, one might argue that SSM simply represents the extension of marriage to include those who want to marry a person of the same sex; if this is so, and we think marriage is a type of good, then surely we should treat others the way we want to be treated? However, it is precisely the meaning and essence of marriage (and therefore, whether it is proper to extend its meaning to embrace same-sex couples) that is contested ground. The Golden Rule, on the other hand, assumes some shared vision of what is good for a person or people. Debate over SSM, which goes to the heart of the meaning of marriage as an institution, is not within its purview. And since the Golden Rule says nothing about SSM – nothing at all – then appeals to it as the most basic grounding for support of the concept are meaningless.

Obama seemed also to misunderstand the nature of Christian ethical teaching. It is not the case that one can use a verse, completely shorn of its context, to make a point. Nevertheless, that is exactly what the President did. He neglected to mention that Christ’s maxim was a summation of the “Law and the Prophets” (part of the very same verse). What this means is that the Golden Rule is integrated with the rest of the Scriptures; it does not stand alone, in splendid isolation, ready to do the work of anyone who wants to justify anything on the basis of reciprocal preference. It is grounded in a particular theological context that says nothing at all about SSM, but which upholds the ideal of marriage as a union between a man and a woman (see Genesis 1:27; 2:23-24). What’s more, Matthew 7:12 is integrally tied to the rest of Jesus’ teaching – teaching which makes plain the fact that he upheld the creational ideal found in the Bible’s premier book. In fact, just twelve chapters after uttering the Golden Rule, Jesus pointed to the fact that “at the beginning” marriage was created as a union between a man and a woman (Matt. 19:1-6). Now, one might object that these verses don’t say anything about SSM either. Two things can be said in response. First, Jesus’ citation of the Genesis text implicitly ruled out sexual unions that lie outside the bounds of heterosexual marriage. His citation, I submit, assumed exclusivity of scope. Second, Jesus was an observant Jew, steeped in the OT, and living in the socio-cultural matrix of first-century Judaism. Support for homosexual acts – and therefore, advocacy of SSM – would have been highly unlikely, to say the least.

The upshot of all this is that President Obama has – unwittingly, perhaps – pitted Jesus against himself. One cannot believe what Jesus taught in Matthew 19, and yet use Matthew 7:12 as a way to advocate for SSM. Either that, or it appears the President has implied that not even Jesus taught in accordance with what the leader of the free world thinks is a proper interpretation of the Golden Rule. For Obama, who states that he and his wife Michelle are practising Christians, something is seriously amiss. How, pray tell, would he reconcile his reading of Matthew 7:12 with Christ’s teachings on marriage (found in the very same gospel)? If it’s true that Christ upheld the ideal of heterosexual marriage, and regarded homosexuality as a sin (as any observant Jew of his time would have), how would the President be able to maintain his religious and theological justification for SSM when it brings him into jarring conflict with the central figure – and the ethical model – of the faith he professes?

As one can see, several problems abound with Obama’s tortured, and tortuous, theological reasoning – and all this before we arrive at an exegesis of the passage in question. Looking at it in context, it’s clear that Matthew 7:12 can only be used as a justification for SSM advocacy by way of imaginative sophistry or intellectual laziness. It comes as part of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, which, although beloved by people who say they admire Christianity (but cannot really commit to all of its teachings), is actually directed towards disciples. This is made plain at the beginning of the section, in Matthew 5:1. Rather, it is an “in-house” sermon, directed towards those who already followed Jesus. Even if Obama’s interpretation were hypothetically plausible, it still would not warrant support for a change in public policy (true, Obama stated his stance on SSM as a personal view. But as President of the United States, and thus that nation’s leading public figure, his personal views cannot easily be disentangled from his public stance on issues).

Everything I have mentioned – the various layers of context within which the Golden Rule sits, Obama’s lazy and undiscerning application, and Jesus’ own recorded stance on the question of marriage – leaves one dubious about the prospect of Christ’s maxim doing all of this theological and intellectual heavy lifting. However, if we move on to the immediate context of Matthew 7:12, that prospect seems even more remote. Just before he uttered his famous words, Jesus spoke of asking (God, presumably) for one’s needs to be met. He then used his present audience in an analogous manner to show them that God could be trusted to supply their needs (Matt. 7:9-11). Moving from the lesser to the greater, Jesus concluded that if sinful human fathers would nonetheless liberally supply their children with everything they needed, how much more would one’s Heavenly Father supply one’s own needs, and work for one’s own good? Reading verse 12, it is apparent that Christ’s “Golden Rule” exhortation was the direct implication of God meeting the needs of his disciples. In like manner, they are to treat others in the same way, with the way one treats oneself (defined in a basic, commonsensical manner) acting as a yardstick. Their lives are to be characterized by a regard for others’ good that mirrors God’s regard for theirs’. In view of what Jesus preached just one chapter earlier – exhorting his disciples to refrain from worrying about the basics of life, precisely because of God’s provision (Matt. 6:25-34) – it seems one has some details regarding the kinds of goods and the sorts of needs one might meet when treating another as oneself. As I noted earlier, such a specific, and contemporary, concept/issue as SSM was never within the purview of Jesus’ teaching at this point.

It is sad to see someone of such intellectual acuity commit such an elementary blunder in an effort to “reconcile” the teachings of Christ and the church with modern-day concerns that are diametrically opposed. We can be thankful that President Obama has at least shown enough candour on this issue to be forthright and honest. As a lawyer, however, one thinks he would have been able to do better. But hey, I suppose that’s what you get when you try and please two groups whose disagreement over this issue could not be sharper. More seriously, it shows us that there are times when Christian ethical teachings simply will not submit to secular concerns, no matter how much one may try. Not even a President, powerful as he is, can reconcile the irreconcilable.