Dialogue

[JoeCatch]

I'm taking a class this semester on Christian ethics; yesterday we were discussing the authority of the bible for Christian ethics. One of the insights we were working with was that the bible is always authoritative (however that cashes out) in the context of an actively deliberating community. I brought up the ELCA's decisions this summer to affirm the full inclusion of LGBTQ persons in the life of the church and, specifically, an impasse that we either are rapidly approaching or have already reached.

My question in class, and now for this forum, is: How do we go about having a discussion on a highly charged issue like this, either within the ELCA or with other Lutherans and other Christians, when one side of that debate claims a monopoly on the bible? That is, when we hear comments like "the ELCA is ignoring the bible" or even "the ELCA has abandoned the Christian faith," how can there even be a dialogue?

Now, maybe I'm just being naively optimistic in thinking that dialogue is possible under such circumstances, but then we read something like the remarks of Mark Achtemeier, a bible-believing, conservative evangelical Christian seminary professor who changed his way of thinking on this issue. (His remarks are long-ish, but definitely worthwhile.) I know that people in my own congregation have changed their way of thinking in just this way, too. So, as difficult as dialogue can be, I know it's not just completely naive to think that it's possible.

But what's the starting point? We go to what the bible says, and the usual suspects (Leviticus, Romans, 1 Corinthians and 1 Timothy) don't take long to rear their heads. From there it becomes clear that different sides of this issue are operating with different understandings of what the bible is, how it is authoritative, and what it even means to be authoritative. So the problem for dialogue seems to be that we're just not agreeing to the same ground rules, and then we have to backtrack and hash out all of those issues before we can even begin to approach the issue (homosexuality) that started the conversation.

Often, though, people just seem to be entrenched. They don't want dialogue and often they don't even want to allow anyone else a seat at the proverbial table. Someone else in class pointed out, and I found myself agreeing, that there's often a lot more going on for those people than even a biblical hermeneutic. That sort of exclusionary entrenchment often has deep, psychological roots (usually about identity and a perceived threat of losing it--in other words, fear) that not even the best attempts at rational, civil discourse about the bible could even touch.

So where does all of that leave us? Is fruitful discourse on this issue even possible? Does the attempt ultimately just do more harm than good by dredging up the inevitable ugliness that often seems to outweigh the positives? Is there really a way forward for the ELCA as it is today (a veneer of institutional unity covering deep underlying differences), or is the call for unity just a delay of something (viz., a split) that's inevitable and possibly much healthier in the long run?

 

[AngelusSax]

We're provided an opportunity. In discussing this issue, we have a choice whether to let it tear us apart or let it focus us on what unites us. My prayer is that the love and salvation that is Jesus Christ will be bigger than this issue in our collective, and individual, heart(s).

 

[JoeCatch]

I'd like to offer the following remarks as a clarification of my position:

It is not my view that all conservatives/confessionals are irrational or guilty of carrying psychological baggage when it comes to the homosexuality issue. My claim here is not, and should not be taken as, a generalization about conservatives and confessionals. In fact, I'm very close friends with several confessional Lutherans who are at least as conservative as the conservative consensus here at TCL. I've known them since college, and we get together regularly. We discuss theology; our conversations are always civil. I do not agree with much of anything that they have to say when our conversations turn to theology (or politics, for that matter), nor they with me, but I do not believe that their conservatism in itself is evidence of irrationality or psychological troubles.

My comment, rather, was about those who are so ideologically entrenched that they refuse to converse with, attempt to exclude from the discussion, and viscerally resist coexisting with those whom they perceive as their ideological opponents. Note that I never even claimed that this phenomenon is an exclusively conservative one. In fact, Professor Achtemeier (whose comments I linked to above) is an excellent example of a conservative who absolutely does not fit this description; he is both staunchly conservative and willing to engage in dialogue with those who disagree with his views. My comments do not, and were not meant to, apply to him, or to my own conservative friends with whom I discuss theology regularly--or, for that matter, to the countless other conservatives and confessionals who readily and willingly engage in dialogue with those on "the other side" and view that "other side" as partners in dialogue rather than as enemies. In short, not all conservatives fit the description of the phenomenon I'm describing, nor is everybody who does fit the description necessarily a conservative.

I'm also not painting anyone with the broad brush of any sort of medical diagnosis. Yes, I do believe that those who tend to want to shut down and shut out anyone who disagrees with them are acting at least as much out of psychological motivations as they are acting out of principled or theological ones. But the phenomenon I described (perception of a threat to one's identity) is absolutely not a medical diagnosis; it is an observation about a situational phenomenon, not a physiological one. My reference to the "deep, psychological roots" of some people's ideological entrenchment is not a reference to mental illness. None of what I wrote was intended to be dismissive of, or abusive toward, anyone who has struggled with mental illnesses of any sort. The observation wasn't even originally my own (and, for that matter, since it was actually someone else in my ethics class who originally made the observation, it absolutely was not directed at anyone here at TCL), and I can assure everybody that no denigration of mental illness itself or of those who have suffered from any such illness was intended by anybody.

For what it's worth, I can actually understand the reactions of those whom I've described as "ideologically entrenched." I don't agree with those reactions or condone them, but I understand them (or at least I think so!). If someone views certain of his beliefs (e.g., in this case, biblical inerrancy--or, for that matter, membership in a particular church) as constitutive of who he is at the very core of his identity, then it makes sense that he might construe a negation of that belief (i.e., the denial of inerrancy or a dramatic reversal in that church's long-held position on an important issue) as a negation of his own person, his own self and his very identity. Of course that's a frightening thing, and it's absolutely no sign of mental illness to respond to a frightening prospect in a frightened manner. My point is not that we should be dismissive of such persons, nor is it my point that constructive dialogue would or should exclude any such persons from participating because they're not approaching the subject "rationally" enough. My point, instead, is that such persons must be included in the conversation, and that their inclusion must include acknowledging and, most important, healing the very real and very understandable pain that they feel at the prospect of losing that part of their identity that they view as being at stake in the discussion.

That very real, personal pain is what cannot be addressed by limiting the discussion to a rational discourse about theology and biblical hermeneutics, and that's why limiting our discourse to rational discussions about those surface issues will not satisfactorily settle the homosexuality issue or close the rifts and heal the pain that it has caused. I think that those of us in the pro-inclusion camp may, because we find their theological position unacceptable, be too dismissive of the real pain felt by those on the other side. And, for that matter, they have frequently expressed that pain in a vitriolic manner that doesn't garner much sympathy. So, chalk that up as another reason to try to hold the ELCA together through these times: It's an opportunity for us to minister to each other and bear each other's burdens.

Even after a considerable amount of the healing that needs to take place does take place, we will probably still be at a point of being unable to reconcile our theological positions. But (and this is a change in my position since I've thought through this matter of healing and ministering) I definitely now believe that any decision about whether to remain united or to go our separate ways should wait until after we as a church have gone through that healing process. I'm no fan of institutional unity for its own sake, and am concerned that perhaps that low bar is really all that the ELCA power structure is concerned with clearing right now, but I now see that there are good reasons to maintain unity at least in the short and intermediate term.

I hope that the above comments sufficiently clarify some serious misunderstandings that have been floating around about what I've written and what my intent has been.

 

[Willy]

You have some very good insights. It seems to me that often we see the world not for what it is but for who we are. Dialogue with ideological people, it seems to me, is often almost impossible not simply because of the power of the ideology but because of the power of the way identity can shape ideology. We need the ideology in order to maintain the world that helps us prop up who we are. If the world were to change, we would have to change. And that sometimes is entirely too frightening. The Bible so often, it seems to me, is one of the props that people use to protect themselves and their worlds from changing. Instead of facing our own sexual issues, confronting the ambiguity of our own sexual identity, for example, it is just easier to identify the sexually other as somehow deficient. In the work I do I have seen a literalistic approach to the Bible to be used as a way to protect people from dealing with the real issues of their lives. Alcoholics and their family members sometimes can be good at this. The issue is I need a rigid universe because life is out of control because of my alcoholism or my family member's alcoholism. The rigidity where Adam and Eve are real human beings and Jonah was really historically swallowed by a big fish is a world view that can help people avoid struggling with their historicity, their humanness. A more human Bible might force me to deal with my humanness. No thanks! That's too tough. Let me remain in denial. But yes, I agree that not all ideology is rooted in psychological dis-ease.

 

[doulos_tou_kuriou]

I think conversation is possible, but you raise an important issue, when authority and standards are different, it makes conversations very difficult because you are speaking on different wavelengths and often end up speaking past each other not together.
One of two things must happen as it seems to me 1) you must find/share common understanding of scripture to discuss it, or 2) you must to some degree accept each others' understanding of authority and standards and discuss the issue from both levels or wavelengths.
But this is difficult, and I do not think it is always bad for discussions to really stop if you cannot get past this point. When discussing theology for example, I do not mind things like logic, philosophy, experience, or tradition in the discussion, but ultimately scripture needs to be for me the primary standard, and if it is not discussed or is relegated to the side, I'm not really interested in discussing because to me it has fled what I consider to be foundational for theological discussion.

The new social statement speaks of this problem, the task force in trying to embody all the views of the ELCA decided it could not come to a conclusion because it could not discuss the issue, instead it felt it was better to agree to disagree. Whether you think a church as a guiding body can or should do this is another issue.

Pax

 

[doulos_tou_kuriou]

I think conversation is possible, but you raise an important issue, when authority and standards are different, it makes conversations very difficult because you are speaking on different wavelengths and often end up speaking past each other not together.
One of two things must happen as it seems to me 1) you must find/share common understanding of scripture to discuss it, or 2) you must to some degree accept each others' understanding of authority and standards and discuss the issue from both levels or wavelengths.
But this is difficult, and I do not think it is always bad for discussions to really stop if you cannot get past this point. When discussing theology for example, I do not mind things like logic, philosophy, experience, or tradition in the discussion, but ultimately scripture needs to be for me the primary standard, and if it is not discussed or is relegated to the side, I'm not really interested in discussing because to me it has fled what I consider to be foundational for theological discussion.

The new social statement speaks of this problem, the task force in trying to embody all the views of the ELCA decided it could not come to a conclusion because it could not discuss the issue, instead it felt it was better to agree to disagree. Whether you think a church as a guiding body can or should do this is another issue.

Pax