Theology and source critical analysis

There is reason to think that a number of biblical texts—paradigmatically, the Pentateuch—were redacted from multiple sources that scholars have worked to tease apart and separately analyze. This is very interesting from a scholarly point of view. But I do not know that it is that interesting from the theological point of view.

Vatican II, in Dei Verbum, famously teaches:

since everything asserted by the inspired authors or sacred writers must be held to be asserted by the Holy Spirit, it follows that the books of Scripture must be acknowledged as teaching solidly, faithfully and without error that truth which God wanted put into sacred writings for the sake of salvation. … However, since God speaks in Sacred Scripture through men in human fashion, the interpreter of Sacred Scripture, in order to see clearly what God wanted to communicate to us, should carefully investigate what meaning the sacred writers really intended, and what God wanted to manifest by means of their words.

Presumably many other Christian groups hold something similar.

Now, in the case of a text put together from multiple sources, the question is who the “sacred writers” are. I want to suggest that in the case of such a text, the relevant “sacred writers” are the editors who put the texts together, and especially the ones responsible for a final (though this is a somewhat difficult to apply concept) version, and the intentions relevant to figuring out “What God wanted to communicate to us” are the intentions of the final layer of editing. The books in question, such as Genesis, are not anthologies. In an anthology, an editor has some purposes in mind for the anthologized texts, but the texts belong, often in a more or less acknowledged fashion, to the individual authors. The editorial work in putting the Biblical works together from source material is much more creative—it is genuine form of authorship—which is obvious from how much back-and-forth movement there is. Like in an anthology, we should not take the editor’s intentions to align with the intentions of the source material authors, but unlike in an anthology, the final work comes with the editor’s authority, and counts as the assertion of the editor, with the editor’s intentions being the ones that determine the meaning of the work.

If this is right, then I think we can only be fully confident of dealing with inspired teaching in the case of what the editors intend to assert through the final works. Writers typically draw on a multiplicity of sources, and need not be asserting what these sources meant in their original context—think of the ways in which a writer often repurposes a quote from another. Think here of how Homer draws upon a rich variety of fictional and nonfictional source material, but when he adapts them for inclusion in his work, the intentions relevant to “What the Iliad and Odyssey say” are Homer’s intentions.

If what we want to be sure of is “what God wanted to communicate to us”, then we should focus on the redactors’ intentions. In particular, when there is a tension in text between two pieces of source material, exegetically we should focus on what the editor meant to communicate to us by the choice to include material from both sources. (In a text without divine inspiration, we might in the end attribute a tension to editorial carelessness, but in fact scholars rarely make use of “carelessness” as an explanation for phenomena in great works of secular literature.) I think we should be open even to the logical possibility that the editor misunderstood what the source material meant to communicate, but it is the editor’s understanding that is normative for the interpretation of what the text as a whole is saying.

From a scholarly point of view, earlier layers in the composition process are more interesting. But I think that from a theological point of view, it is what the editor wanted to communicate that matters.

I don’t want to be too dogmatic about this, for three reasons. First, it is possible that the source material is an inspired text in its own right. But, I think, we typically don’t know that it is (though in a Christian context, an obvious exception is where the New Testament quotes Jesus’ inspired teaching). Second, it is possible for a writer or editor who has a deep respect for a piece of source material to include the text with the intention that the text be understood in the sense in which the original authors intended it to be understood, in which case the intentions of the authors of the source material may well be relevant. Third, this is not my field—I could be really badly confused.

Jesus's "unknown years"

Here is something that struck me about Jesus’s “unknown years”—the years not expressly described in the Gospel. Jesus was a Jew under the Torah. The Torah suffuses all aspects of life. Thus, in virtue of the fact that Jesus was sinless and hence perfectly fulfilled the Torah, we can know a lot more about his daily life than we know about the daily life of any ordinary historical figure. In Jesus' case, "ought" implied "is".

Peter's denial and the ethics of lying

On views on which lying is sometimes permissible, lying to save one’s life from unjust persecution is a paradigm case of permissible lying. But Peter’s lies about his connection to Jesus—his famous three-fold denial of Jesus—fall precisely under that head. So if it is sometimes permissible to lie, it is hard to see how Peter acted wrongly.

Of course, even if lying is sometimes permissible, the purpose behind the lie can be wrong. Was that the case for Peter? I doubt it. Peter’s purpose was not to be suspected of being one of Jesus’s followers. Suppose that he chose a different means to that end, say by dressing in a non-Galilean way and affecting a non-Galilean accent. There would be nothing at all morally wrong with that—that’s presumably the sort of thing missionaries in repressive countries do all the time, without anybody (other than the repressive regime!) thinking it’s wrong.

Perhaps the difference in purpose is the one between (a) Peter not being thought to be one of Jesus’s followers and (b) Peter being thought to not be one of Jesus’s followers. Maybe if Peter affected non-Galilean dress, he would merely be intending (a), whereas his lies were done with the intention of (b). And maybe there is in general something wrong with intending to be thought not to be connected with Christ. Note first, however, that the defender of the permissibility of lying cannot say that the problem is with the intention to deceive. For paradigm cases of lies thought to be permissible are precisely ones where there is an intention to deceive (Nazi at the door cases, say). Second, apart from general worries about the permissibility of intentionally causing false belief, it does not seem plausible to think that it is always wrong to intend to be thought unconnected with Christ. Third, Peter need not have had intended (b): he might simply have intended (a) or he might have intended something in between—that the people he talked to would on balance have evidence that he is not connected to Christ. It does not seem that these subtle distinctions are in play in the Gospels, given that the texts do not tell us which thing Peter intended.

Maybe, though, one can argue that Matthew 10:33 (“If anyone denies me before human beings, I will deny him before my Father who is in heaven”) constitutes a special divine command, a sui generis prohibition on lying about one’s connection to Christ. That’s probably the best move for the defender of the permissibility of lying to make. I think there are some problems with this move.

First, we should limit the invocation of special divine commands that go over and beyond the natural law. We should do so both on the grounds of Ockham’s razor as well as on theological grounds. It seems that the crucial difference between the life of the Christian and Old Testament law is that the latter includes many divine commands that go over and beyond the natural law.

In fact, I like the hypothesis there are very few—and perhaps no—divine commands applicable to all Christians beyond the natural law. One might think that, say, the command to be baptized is such. But I am inclined to think not. There are consequences of baptism—grace and the forgiveness of sins. And there are consequences of refusal to be baptized—lack of the grace and the forgiveness of sins. The virtue of prudence requires of us to be baptized, but there need not be any separate divine command. There is, of course, the authority of the Church: we are to obey the elders. However, that is an instance of the authority a community has over its members for the common good of the community. (This community is a special supernatural one, of course.)

Second, the context of Matthew 10:33 is the persecution that the Church will endure. Thus if a new command is being promulgated, it seems likely to be directed at future times when the Church needs to be spreading the Gospel (hence the verse before, about acknowledging Christ before human beings). But Peter’s denial is not a part of that time. The Church has yet to be founded: the death and resurrection of Christ have not yet happened and the Holy Spirit has yet to be sent.

Of course, those of us who think all lying is wrong still have a puzzle. A lie in order to escape unjust persecution even if wrong seems to be a very minor wrong. But the Gospels do not present Peter’s denial as a minor wrong. So there is still the puzzle of where the gravity of Peter’s sin comes from. But here the task seems not to be so difficulty. It is reasonable to think of certain kinds of settings as greatly multiplying the gravity of an offense. To steal something worth less than a day’s wages is a venial sin according to reputable moral theologians. But to steal from a church a cheap mass-produced icon that is worth less than a day’s wages turns the theft into a sacrilege, a much more serious offense. The gravity is explained by the fact that it is a sacrilege, but the wrongness is explained by the fact that it is a theft—if the pastor gave one the icon, one could permissibly take it away and it would have been neither theft nor sacrilege. Similarly, pickpocketing in church is a more serious offense. Thus, I think we can say that Peter’s denial was wrong simply because it was a lie. But it was as wrong as it was because it was a lie about Peter’s affiliation with Jesus.

Same-sex relations: The argument from the Old Testament

Occasionally, the Old Testament (OT) prohibitions on same-sex sexual activity are used as part of a Christian theological case for the impermissibility of same-sex sexual activity. There is one weakness in this argument that I want to address (I do not want to deny that there are other issues), and this is that some OT rules--most evidently dietary ones--have been sublated in New Testament times and are binding on the Christian in a non-literal form (e.g., the prohibitions on some foods that come into a person's mouth might be transformed into a prohibition on the speech that comes out of a person's mouth). The traditional answer is to distinguish between "ceremonial" and "moral" precepts, and to claim that the ceremonial ones no longer literally bind those who have died in Christ (though they may exist in a sublated form), but the moral ones are eternal. The opponent of the argument against same-sex sexual relations may well claim that the prohibition in question falls in the ceremonial category.

But I think there is a different way of fixing up the OT-based argument for impermissibility. I shall claim that it would be inappropriate for the God of love to prohibit same-sex sexual relations unless these relations are wrong. Here is the argument.

After all, there are persons whose sexual attraction is exclusively towards members of their own sex. Some highly motivated such individuals do apparently succeed in changing their attractions to opposite-sex ones, but it does not seem that the majority succeed (I've heard from a colleague that the best data indicates that about 30% of highly motivated same-sex attracted individuals can change to have an attraction for the opposite-sex). It is also plausible that same-sex attracted individuals unable to change to being opposite-sex attracted existed in not insignificant numbers in ancient Israel. The defender of same-sex sexual relations is unlikely to deny this.

Now, flourishing in a morally upright romantic relationship is one of the central parts of human flourishing (that does not deny that some might appropriately sacrifice this form of flourishing for the supernatural goals of celibacy), and it is particularly a flourishing in respect of our capacity to love. If same-sex sexual relations are morally permissible (apart from divine prohibitions), then same-sex romantic relationships will, surely, be a central part of the potential human flourishing of same-sex attracted individuals. Furthermore, sexual relations within marital commitment are the consummation of a romantic relationship. If same-sex sexual relations are morally permissible, then to prohibit same-sex sexual relations to an individual incapable of opposite-sex sexual relations is to prohibit the individual from exercising a central part of human flourishing. And this seems an inappropriate thing for the God who is Love to do, and whose purpose for us is to fulfill our love. (In fact, I think a number of the statements in this paragraph are standard parts of the case for the permissibility of same-sex sexual relations.)

In summary, if same-sex sexual relations are morally permissible (apart from divine prohibitions), they enter into the consummation of morally upright romantic relationships for people incapable of flourishing within opposite-sex romantic relationships. But if so, then it was inappropriate for our God to have forbidden them in OT times. But God did forbid them in OT times, and God does not do what is inappropriate. Hence, it was appropriate for our God to forbid these relations, and hence the relations were not morally permissible. But morality itself does not change (though ceremonies do), and hence even now they are not morally permissible.

Observe that a similar argument cannot be made in the case of clearly ceremonial precepts. E.g., ham is yummy, but eating ham is not central to the fulfillment of human individuals. Even if one were biologically constituted so that ham is the food that would taste best to one, it would be false that there is a central part of human flourishing to which the eating of ham would be essential. So even though eating ham is not morally wrong (in itself), it would not be inappropriate for our God to prohibit it to a segment of the human population.

Objection 1: Perhaps God had made a special blanket call for a segment of the Israelite population (namely, the same-sex attracted population, or at least the portion of it unable to change the attraction) to engage in the supernatural self-sacrifice of chaste celibacy.

Responses: This seems implausible. First, widespread celibacy for a supernatural reason seems to be a new thing in Christian times. Second, there is no indication of a special supernatural goal being given to this segment of the population, though it is possible that one was given, but no data survives about this.

Objection 2: God has absolute authority over us. He would be fully within his rights to prohibit blue-eyed people from engaging in sexual relations with anybody. We have no right to our human flourishing--it is all a gift of God.

Response: I think there is much to this objection. Indeed, I think it is the most powerful objection to my argument. However, even though such a prohibition would probably be permissible to God in the abstract, it does not seem to fit with God's plans for the human race as shown in Scripture. God gives us life, life to the full.

Objection 3: The objection proves too much, because it also shows that God is not within his rights to allow impotence to happen (since impotence makes the marital consummation of romantic relationships impossible). But impotence happens, and God is omnipotent, so God must be allowing it to happen.

Response: There is a difference between permitting and doing. God permits evils to happen to us, in order that a greater good might be instantiated, but that is not the same as positively doing evil. However, if God actually prohibited same-sex sexual relations, and these relations were a crucial part of the human flourishing of some individuals, then this would be a much more direction relation between God and the evil--it would be like God forbade us from breathing. A prohibition is an action.

Objection 4: The commands in the OT are not the word of God but the word of humans.

Response: I said I would be responding to a specific objection to the OT-based argument against same-sex sexual relations, not against every objection. Objection 4 applies to just about every Scriptural argument. Those like me who accept the divine inspiration of Scripture (without denying that the human authors were authors, along with God) will not find Objection 4 particularly compelling.