This past Sunday was the final one for Steve and I at our Teaching Parish site. We went out with a bit of a bang, because we were both preaching as well (Steve preached for two services, I preached for the other two). I have to say, although I will not miss the commute every weekend and the amount of time I spent at Teaching Parish, it is a bit of a sad parting. Grace Lutheran was a great learning site, and our mentors, Pastor Kevin and Pastor Martha, did a great job. Still, I'm on to new things, and Grace will probably be hosting a new Teaching Parish student in the fall.
My sermon is below; I thought it went all right, but not great—then again, it's the end of the semester and I'm burnt out, so I probably don't have a very positive outlook right now. There were at least a few people who said it really spoke to them, so I'll count that as a success. Plus, the children's sermon (in which I proved that Steve was not a ghost) went off without a hitch, so that was a big relief. The text in the lectionary was Luke 24:36b-48, but we read through to the end of the book (verse 53). Enjoy!
Once, there was a girl who was baptized as a child and brought up in the Christian faith. Her faith was strong throughout her teenage years and she was active in the church—singing in the choir, going on confirmation retreats, helping with service events. But when she went away to college, she stopped going to church and gradually, she lost her faith. For many years after that, she did not believe in God.
—Can faith be lost? Can it be found again?
There was a group of friends talking about faith. One of them had been a Christian his whole life; another had recently joined a church. They spoke about how wonderful faith was, and what a comfort it was for them. The third friend became uncomfortable. The other two asked what was wrong; he replied, “I don’t have faith.” The friends told him that it was easy, he just had to believe in Jesus and go to church. But their friend answered, “No, it’s not that simple. If I could believe, I would, but I just can’t.”
—Where does faith come from? Can we find it if we try hard enough?
There was a man who grew up without any faith; his family was not religious, and he never went to church or read the Bible. He had a powerful conversion experience—he was inspired to accept Jesus Christ as his savior. He felt born again. His wife suggested that he be baptized, and the man replied, “Baptism? What’s that? Is that something I should know about?”
—What counts for faith? How much do you have to know?
At first glance, faith seems like an easy thing to understand. It just means believing in something, right? We could say that to have faith means that you believe the words of the Creeds, for example. Or faith means accepting Jesus as your savior. But everyone here has probably experienced that faith is not quite that simple. There are days and weeks and even years when we struggle to believe, or we wonder what it is we’re supposed to believe in. Talking with other Christians, we find that different people have very different understandings of what constitutes faith. We wonder where faith comes from and whether it’s a matter of understanding or feeling, effort or grace. We learn with time that faith is not an all-or-nothing thing, that you either have or you don’t. It seems that the longer you are on the journey of faith, the more you realize that it is a lifelong endeavor.
In our gospel reading from Luke, these questions about faith are also present. Though Luke does not mention the word “faith” or “belief” in this passage, the faith of the disciples is clearly at stake. It is the day of the resurrection; in the morning the women were at the empty tomb, in the afternoon two disciples were on the road to Emmaus, where they saw the risen Jesus but did not recognize him until he broke the bread—and then he disappeared. They rush back to Jerusalem, to discover that Jesus has also appeared to Peter. At that very moment, Jesus stands in the room with them. These events have happened very quickly; the disciples do not yet understand what is happening. They are stricken with terror, not joy, at the sight of Jesus; they think he is a ghost. The disciples are facing a crisis of faith—Jesus, their Lord, was arrested and killed, and now they think they are being haunted by his ghost.
Yet by the end of our reading, they are worshipping Jesus as he ascends into heaven. Clearly, this resurrection appearance has a profound effect on the faith of the disciples. If we consider the different parts of this Gospel text, we can see several pieces that help us to understand the disciples’ faith, and think about our own faith today.
When Jesus appears to the disciples in this passage, they believe they are seeing a ghost. Jesus proves to them that he is no spirit—he is flesh and blood, he eats and walks on the ground. The proofs Jesus gives to the disciples point out one source of faith: a faith based on seeing, touching, directly experiencing the object of faith. The disciples could literally feel Jesus’ hands, see that his feet touched the ground. Jesus tells them, “Look at my hands and feet... Touch me and see.” It is this direct experience that convinces the disciples. Clearly, there is a connection between direct experience and faith. If you see and touch the risen Jesus, it is clear why you would believe in the resurrection. If you see Jesus ascend into heaven, it is clear why you would worship him. Likewise, all the people of Jesus’ time who saw the miracles—the healings, the miraculous feedings, Jesus’ power over nature—believed in him. The old saying is true: Seeing is believing.
But what of us today? We do not walk and talk and eat with Jesus of Nazareth—is this experiential faith of the disciples impossible for us? Can we have a direct experience of God? Today, people wonder if there are still miracles, examples of God’s action, in our everyday lives. When Captain Sullenberger landed flight 1549 in the Hudson River a few months ago, many people saw an example of God’s miraculous action. Others saw only the skills of an excellent pilot. It is difficult, in this scientific and technological age, to prove that something is a miracle, that there is no other possible explanation. So are we left high and dry, unable to experience God? Indeed not. While we may never know for sure whether that plane landing was a miracle or not, we experience God’s miraculous presence among us every week. We know that we meet God here at the table each Sunday, and meet God at the font when we baptize a child of God. God is here in this space right now, and we do experience God’s presence—in the water of baptism, the bread and wine of communion, and the faces of our brothers and sisters in Christ.
The disciples are convinced by direct proofs that Jesus must not be a ghost, but rather a living being; then there is a shift in the story. Jesus begins to explain the Scriptures, what we would call the Old Testament, to the disciples. When Jesus teaches the disciples about the Scriptures, we can see a second element of faith. Luke says that Jesus “opened their minds” and that Jesus explains the ultimate purpose of his mission: “That the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations”. The Gospel of Luke is continued in the Book of Acts, which forms a second volume to this story. In the reading from Acts, we see this proclamation carried out—Peter proclaims this same repentance. Like Jesus, Peter also refers the people to the prophets, the Scriptures. Part of faith, for Christians and for Jews, is faith in the word of God. Jesus opens the minds of the disciples to the Scriptures so that they may believe in the words of Scripture; Peter does the same for the people to whom he preaches.
We, too, study the Bible not merely as an intellectual exercise or for our entertainment, but because we have faith in God’s word. That’s not to say that we have to agree with or believe every single verse of the Bible. But we understand the Scriptures as passing down core messages to us, and we believe in those core teachings. Jesus treats Scripture in the same way in the passage from Luke. When he explains the Scriptures, he does not go over every word; but he teaches the core message: “That the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations”. These exact words do not appear anywhere in the Old Testament; but this is the core teaching Jesus wants to draw out of the whole of the Scriptures and pass on to his disciples.
After the proofs and the teaching, a third section of the story begins. Jesus leads his disciples out to Bethany, where he ascends into heaven. It is not until this point that we really see the results of what comes before. As an audience, we are left in suspense for a little while, waiting to see if the disciples will understand, if they will really have faith in the risen Jesus. Then, in verse 52, we find out the answer: “They worshiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy”. Worship is the response for those who believe that Jesus is the son of God; for the disciples to worship him here proves that they believe in him.
We, too, come to worship to express our faith, and we also worship to strengthen our faith. Worship binds us together as a community, reminding us that we are the body of Christ, the people of God; we are joined together by our faith and by our common worship. Like the disciples, our faith journeys lead us into worship, and like the disciples, they lead us out again into the world, from the worship service into service to the world.
Faith is not an easy thing. Sometimes it seems to come to us when we’re not even looking for it. Other times, it seems to disappear just when we need it most. Perhaps it is some comfort to know that faith has been a journey, a struggle, and an experience for all God’s people. The disciples in this passage in Luke are wrestling with faith just as we are in our lives today. Luke shows us that faith can be seen in many ways and from many sources: from direct experience, in the Scriptures, and through worship. This is only the tip of the iceberg of faith; but it’s a good start, wherever we are on our faith journeys.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
A Comment About Comments
I've had a number of people ask me why they can't post comments on my blog, wondering if there is some error or perhaps I just don't know about the comments option.
I am aware that most blogs allow comments. I have chosen to disable them on mine because religion is always a controversial topic, because there are many people who tend to post stupid and hateful things on the internet, and because I don't have the time or energy to police comments at the moment. It's something I'm thinking about for the future, if this blogging thing continues, but right now I am going to keep things the way they are.
Most of you who read this blog know me personally. I always welcome comments and conversation via email or on facebook. I hope you can be flexible and respect the boundaries I'm trying to keep up. And I hope you keep reading and enjoying the blog!
I am aware that most blogs allow comments. I have chosen to disable them on mine because religion is always a controversial topic, because there are many people who tend to post stupid and hateful things on the internet, and because I don't have the time or energy to police comments at the moment. It's something I'm thinking about for the future, if this blogging thing continues, but right now I am going to keep things the way they are.
Most of you who read this blog know me personally. I always welcome comments and conversation via email or on facebook. I hope you can be flexible and respect the boundaries I'm trying to keep up. And I hope you keep reading and enjoying the blog!
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Law and Gospel
While I was thinking about reviewing the Lutheran Study Bible, I was reminded of another topic that has been on my mind recently: the Lutheran concept of "law and gospel". Now, you may be a Lutheran and have never heard this specific terminology. Perhaps to the shock of my classmates, I can honestly say I had never heard the phrase "law and gospel" in my life before I entered seminary. I was baptized, raised, and confirmed in the Lutheran church—maybe it's a regional thing. I certainly hear enough about law and gospel out here.
The concept comes from Luther's writings, though it is not unique to Lutherans. Luther used law and gospel as a method of reading and interpreting Scripture. It is important to note that law and gospel is not supposed to be a parallel distinction to Old Testament and New Testament, or to Jewish thinking as opposed to Christian thinking (however, see below). Law is that which condemns us (and therefore forces us to recognize the need for God's grace). Gospel is that which proclaims that same grace. Any given text in the Bible can be seen as law or as gospel. For example, the Ten Commandments can be seen as law because they condemn us (because we fail to live up to their standards), but also as gospel because they are the words of God speaking to the Israelites who have been rescued from slavery. Likewise, the teachings of Jesus could be seen either as condemning (law) or proclaiming the good news (gospel).
As far as it goes, the law and gospel idea is pretty useful. It fits into the Lutheran teaching about salvation—that we cannot save ourselves, but are saved by God's grace. I have to confess, though, that I'm getting tired of hearing about it; I feel that it's being overused. At the same time, I have some serious concerns that the phrase runs the risk of serious misunderstanding. If I have to explain that by "law", I don't actually mean the law in the Old Testament, and by "gospel", I don't actually mean the Gospels in the New Testament, doesn't that indicate that I need to use some different terms?
Specifically, I worry that using "law and gospel" language encourages a negative view of Judaism and the Hebrew Scriptures. It is too easy to equate "law" with the Law, the Torah, and "gospel" with the Gospels and the rest of the New Testament. That naturally leads one to think that the Old Testament is all bad news or outdated, which is then replaced by the New Testament. (On the same note, the very names "Old Testament" and "New Testament" promote the same line of thought. One of my professors suggests calling the Old Testament the "Ancient Witness" instead.) When my professors or my fellow seminarians use the phrase "law and gospel", I know that they are not making these stereotyped assumptions—but what about all the other people, Lutheran or not, who are not familiar with the use of these terms? Why do we keep using language that is very easy to misinterpret and has the potential to be so harmful to people's understanding of the Bible?
Personally, I'm trying to avoid using "law and gospel" language. I can appreciate the value of the idea without using the same terminology. I just don't think we should hang on to certain language purely for the sake of tradition, especially when there are compelling reasons to do otherwise. Call the two "condemning word" and "word of grace", if you like. Just don't inadvertently teach a bad understanding of the Bible by using confusing language.
The concept comes from Luther's writings, though it is not unique to Lutherans. Luther used law and gospel as a method of reading and interpreting Scripture. It is important to note that law and gospel is not supposed to be a parallel distinction to Old Testament and New Testament, or to Jewish thinking as opposed to Christian thinking (however, see below). Law is that which condemns us (and therefore forces us to recognize the need for God's grace). Gospel is that which proclaims that same grace. Any given text in the Bible can be seen as law or as gospel. For example, the Ten Commandments can be seen as law because they condemn us (because we fail to live up to their standards), but also as gospel because they are the words of God speaking to the Israelites who have been rescued from slavery. Likewise, the teachings of Jesus could be seen either as condemning (law) or proclaiming the good news (gospel).
As far as it goes, the law and gospel idea is pretty useful. It fits into the Lutheran teaching about salvation—that we cannot save ourselves, but are saved by God's grace. I have to confess, though, that I'm getting tired of hearing about it; I feel that it's being overused. At the same time, I have some serious concerns that the phrase runs the risk of serious misunderstanding. If I have to explain that by "law", I don't actually mean the law in the Old Testament, and by "gospel", I don't actually mean the Gospels in the New Testament, doesn't that indicate that I need to use some different terms?
Specifically, I worry that using "law and gospel" language encourages a negative view of Judaism and the Hebrew Scriptures. It is too easy to equate "law" with the Law, the Torah, and "gospel" with the Gospels and the rest of the New Testament. That naturally leads one to think that the Old Testament is all bad news or outdated, which is then replaced by the New Testament. (On the same note, the very names "Old Testament" and "New Testament" promote the same line of thought. One of my professors suggests calling the Old Testament the "Ancient Witness" instead.) When my professors or my fellow seminarians use the phrase "law and gospel", I know that they are not making these stereotyped assumptions—but what about all the other people, Lutheran or not, who are not familiar with the use of these terms? Why do we keep using language that is very easy to misinterpret and has the potential to be so harmful to people's understanding of the Bible?
Personally, I'm trying to avoid using "law and gospel" language. I can appreciate the value of the idea without using the same terminology. I just don't think we should hang on to certain language purely for the sake of tradition, especially when there are compelling reasons to do otherwise. Call the two "condemning word" and "word of grace", if you like. Just don't inadvertently teach a bad understanding of the Bible by using confusing language.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Book Review: Lutheran Study Bible
As you may or may not know, Augsburg Fortress has published a new Lutheran Study Bible (not to be confused with The Lutheran Study Bible, coming out in October from the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod). This publication is part of the ELCA's "Opening the Book of Faith" initiative. Living at a Lutheran seminary, it was quite easy to get my hands on a copy, and I thought I'd post my impressions here.
To begin, both my husband and I were rather nervous about this Bible when we first heard about it. Do we really need a Lutheran study Bible?—after all, no denomination has a corner on the Bible. Is it just going to spout Lutheran catch phrases like "law and gospel" (expect another post on that topic soon)? Aren't there plenty of good study Bibles out there already? I was pleasantly surprised, however.
This Bible uses the New Revised Standard Version translation which is already used in Lutheran churches throughout the country, so you don't have to worry about the translation (unless you already were worried about the NRSV, I suppose). It's a unique shade of blue—Carolina blue, my professor from North Carolina explains gleefully. The notes are written by seminary and college faculty (and some others) from around the country, including a few of our professors here at Gettysburg—Dr. Hoffman wrote the notes for Mark, Dr. Stevens for Hosea, Dr. Largen for Jonah, Dr. Carlson for Colossians. Dr. Strobert, also on the faculty here, was on the board of consultants. I found the margin notes insightful, not just a sort of Lutheran soap box. They are divided into four categories: World of the Bible (historical details), Bible Concepts (theological ideas), Lutheran Perspective (here's the Lutheran-specific stuff), and Faith Reflection (application of the text). Each category has a different icon associated with it, making it very easy to tell at a glance what kind of note you're looking at. The notes are geared to an 8th grade reading level, which leads to an important point.
This is not an academic study Bible. I use the New Oxford Annotated Study Bible, which is aimed at a higher reading level and deals with some more complex notes (though any margin notes are bound to be limited in scope). I'm not at all saying this as a complaint about the Lutheran Study Bible; I'm just pointing out that "study Bible" can mean different things to different people. If you're looking for an every day Bible with basic notes to aid in understanding, this is a great Bible. If you're trying to do a text study to write a sermon or plan a class, probably you'll want another resource.
All in all, I am impressed with the Lutheran Study Bible. The notes are broad and easy to understand. There are some extra resources (for example, "Martin Luther on the Bible", "What Should We Expect When We Read the Bible?", "A Short Guide to Personal Bible Reading", and a "Bible Reading Plan") which offer some other insights. I would recommend it to anyone who was seeking a study Bible for everyday use.
To begin, both my husband and I were rather nervous about this Bible when we first heard about it. Do we really need a Lutheran study Bible?—after all, no denomination has a corner on the Bible. Is it just going to spout Lutheran catch phrases like "law and gospel" (expect another post on that topic soon)? Aren't there plenty of good study Bibles out there already? I was pleasantly surprised, however.
This Bible uses the New Revised Standard Version translation which is already used in Lutheran churches throughout the country, so you don't have to worry about the translation (unless you already were worried about the NRSV, I suppose). It's a unique shade of blue—Carolina blue, my professor from North Carolina explains gleefully. The notes are written by seminary and college faculty (and some others) from around the country, including a few of our professors here at Gettysburg—Dr. Hoffman wrote the notes for Mark, Dr. Stevens for Hosea, Dr. Largen for Jonah, Dr. Carlson for Colossians. Dr. Strobert, also on the faculty here, was on the board of consultants. I found the margin notes insightful, not just a sort of Lutheran soap box. They are divided into four categories: World of the Bible (historical details), Bible Concepts (theological ideas), Lutheran Perspective (here's the Lutheran-specific stuff), and Faith Reflection (application of the text). Each category has a different icon associated with it, making it very easy to tell at a glance what kind of note you're looking at. The notes are geared to an 8th grade reading level, which leads to an important point.
This is not an academic study Bible. I use the New Oxford Annotated Study Bible, which is aimed at a higher reading level and deals with some more complex notes (though any margin notes are bound to be limited in scope). I'm not at all saying this as a complaint about the Lutheran Study Bible; I'm just pointing out that "study Bible" can mean different things to different people. If you're looking for an every day Bible with basic notes to aid in understanding, this is a great Bible. If you're trying to do a text study to write a sermon or plan a class, probably you'll want another resource.
All in all, I am impressed with the Lutheran Study Bible. The notes are broad and easy to understand. There are some extra resources (for example, "Martin Luther on the Bible", "What Should We Expect When We Read the Bible?", "A Short Guide to Personal Bible Reading", and a "Bible Reading Plan") which offer some other insights. I would recommend it to anyone who was seeking a study Bible for everyday use.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Fascinating
I know I haven't posted in quite a while, but this was just too good to ignore. One of my classmates shared an article with us about the difficult passage in 1 Corinthians relating to women keeping their heads covered in church. The passage reads,
"Any man who prays or prophesies with something on his head disgraces his head, but any woman who prays or prophesies with her head unveiled disgraces her head—it is one and the same thing as having her head shaved. For if a woman will not veil herself, then she should cut off her hair; but if it is disgraceful for a woman to have her hair cut off or to be shaved, she should wear a veil. For a man ought not to have his head veiled, since he is the image and reflection of God; but woman is the reflection of man. Indeed, man was not made from woman, but woman from man. Neither was man created for the sake of woman, but woman for the sake of man. For this reason a woman ought to have a symbol of authority on her head, because of the angels. Nevertheless, in the Lord woman is not independent of man or man independent of woman. For just as woman came from man, so man comes through woman; but all things come from God. Judge for yourselves: is it proper for a woman to pray to God with her head unveiled? Does not nature itself teach you that if a man wears long hair, it is degrading to him, but if a woman has long hair, it is her glory? For her hair is given to her for a covering. But if anyone is disposed to be contentious—we have no such custom, nor do the churches of God."
It's definitely confusing. For a woman, praying or prophesying with hair unveiled is the same as having her head shaved? It is degrading for a man to have long hair, but glory for a woman? If a woman's hair "is given to her for a covering", why does she need an additional veil?
It turns out the answer is sex. I'll warn you right now that this post is going to be a bit adult, so stop here if you're likely to be offended. The explanation stems from the ancient Greek understanding (very different from our own) of human physiology, and reproduction in particular. The author of the article, Troy Martin, examines Greek medical authors such as Hippocrates as well as others, including Euripides and Aristophanes, to explain this ancient Greek model: "Ancient medical conceptions confirm this association. Hippocratic authors hold that hair is hollow and grows primarily from either male or female reproductive fluid or semen flowing into it and congealing . . . Since hollow body parts create a vacuum and attract fluid, hair attracts semen. Hair grows most prolifically from the head because the brain is the place where the semen is produced or at least stored." In other words, semen is produced and/or stored in the head, so human beings grow the most hair there; this hair acts as a vacuum to pull or attract the semen. Men develop more body hair than women because they need hair to pull the semen downward to the genital area so that they can expel it during intercourse. For the same reason, men should keep the hair on their heads short, so as not to hold back the semen. Women, on the other hand, should wear their hair long so that they can pull as much semen as possible into their bodies. (Yes, I know it's weird, but the Greeks thought a lot of weird things. Bear with me.)
This explains Paul's statement that long hair is degrading for men but not for women, because long hair impedes fertility for men, but improves it for women. So far, so good. The other key to understanding Paul in this passage has to do with the very strange statement "For her hair is given to her for a covering." It seems to contradict what Paul just said about women needing to veil their hair. In fact, the issue is a mistranslation of the word "covering" here. The same word in Greek is used by Euripides; in one of his plays, Hercules says, "After I received [my] bags of flesh, which are the outward signs of puberty, [I received] labors about which I [shall] undertake to say what is necessary." The word here translated as "bags of flesh" (obviously referring to his testicles) is the same word for "covering" in Paul. Using this and other evidence, Martin concludes that Paul is actually saying, "For her hair is given to her for a testicle." In other words, women (unlike men) do not have external genitalia; but a woman's hair functions as part of the reproductive process and is thus effectively an external sexual organ, like the testicles.
Now, as Paul says, "Judge for yourselves: is it proper for a woman to pray to God with her head unveiled?" If hair is considered a sexual organ ("if it is disgraceful for a woman to have her hair cut off or to be shaved"), then it makes perfect sense that hair should be covered during church, just as men cover their genitals during church. If, on the other hand, we have a different understanding of physiology, and we say that hair is not a sexual organ (as I think we would be comfortable saying today), then there is no longer a reason for hair to be covered in church. Martin concludes, "Paul appropriately instructs women in the service of God to cover their hair since it is part of the female genitalia. According to Paul's argument, women may pray or prophesy in public worship along with men but only when both are decently attired. Even though no contemporary person would agree with the physiological conceptions informing Paul's argument from nature for the veiling of women, everyone would agree with his conclusion prohibiting the display of genitalia in public worship. Since the physiological conceptions of the body have changed, however, no physiological reason remains for continuing the practice of covering women's heads in public worship, and many Christian communities reasonably abandon this practice."
And now you know. I think this example demonstrates why we study the Bible in the context of its original writers and audience—because what modern person would have figured out this explanation on his or her own?
(Quotations taken from "Paul's Argument From Nature for the Veil in 1 Corinthians 11:13-15: A Testicle Instead of a Head Covering" by Troy Martin, published in the Journal of Biblical Literature. Used with permission.)
"Any man who prays or prophesies with something on his head disgraces his head, but any woman who prays or prophesies with her head unveiled disgraces her head—it is one and the same thing as having her head shaved. For if a woman will not veil herself, then she should cut off her hair; but if it is disgraceful for a woman to have her hair cut off or to be shaved, she should wear a veil. For a man ought not to have his head veiled, since he is the image and reflection of God; but woman is the reflection of man. Indeed, man was not made from woman, but woman from man. Neither was man created for the sake of woman, but woman for the sake of man. For this reason a woman ought to have a symbol of authority on her head, because of the angels. Nevertheless, in the Lord woman is not independent of man or man independent of woman. For just as woman came from man, so man comes through woman; but all things come from God. Judge for yourselves: is it proper for a woman to pray to God with her head unveiled? Does not nature itself teach you that if a man wears long hair, it is degrading to him, but if a woman has long hair, it is her glory? For her hair is given to her for a covering. But if anyone is disposed to be contentious—we have no such custom, nor do the churches of God."
It's definitely confusing. For a woman, praying or prophesying with hair unveiled is the same as having her head shaved? It is degrading for a man to have long hair, but glory for a woman? If a woman's hair "is given to her for a covering", why does she need an additional veil?
It turns out the answer is sex. I'll warn you right now that this post is going to be a bit adult, so stop here if you're likely to be offended. The explanation stems from the ancient Greek understanding (very different from our own) of human physiology, and reproduction in particular. The author of the article, Troy Martin, examines Greek medical authors such as Hippocrates as well as others, including Euripides and Aristophanes, to explain this ancient Greek model: "Ancient medical conceptions confirm this association. Hippocratic authors hold that hair is hollow and grows primarily from either male or female reproductive fluid or semen flowing into it and congealing . . . Since hollow body parts create a vacuum and attract fluid, hair attracts semen. Hair grows most prolifically from the head because the brain is the place where the semen is produced or at least stored." In other words, semen is produced and/or stored in the head, so human beings grow the most hair there; this hair acts as a vacuum to pull or attract the semen. Men develop more body hair than women because they need hair to pull the semen downward to the genital area so that they can expel it during intercourse. For the same reason, men should keep the hair on their heads short, so as not to hold back the semen. Women, on the other hand, should wear their hair long so that they can pull as much semen as possible into their bodies. (Yes, I know it's weird, but the Greeks thought a lot of weird things. Bear with me.)
This explains Paul's statement that long hair is degrading for men but not for women, because long hair impedes fertility for men, but improves it for women. So far, so good. The other key to understanding Paul in this passage has to do with the very strange statement "For her hair is given to her for a covering." It seems to contradict what Paul just said about women needing to veil their hair. In fact, the issue is a mistranslation of the word "covering" here. The same word in Greek is used by Euripides; in one of his plays, Hercules says, "After I received [my] bags of flesh, which are the outward signs of puberty, [I received] labors about which I [shall] undertake to say what is necessary." The word here translated as "bags of flesh" (obviously referring to his testicles) is the same word for "covering" in Paul. Using this and other evidence, Martin concludes that Paul is actually saying, "For her hair is given to her for a testicle." In other words, women (unlike men) do not have external genitalia; but a woman's hair functions as part of the reproductive process and is thus effectively an external sexual organ, like the testicles.
Now, as Paul says, "Judge for yourselves: is it proper for a woman to pray to God with her head unveiled?" If hair is considered a sexual organ ("if it is disgraceful for a woman to have her hair cut off or to be shaved"), then it makes perfect sense that hair should be covered during church, just as men cover their genitals during church. If, on the other hand, we have a different understanding of physiology, and we say that hair is not a sexual organ (as I think we would be comfortable saying today), then there is no longer a reason for hair to be covered in church. Martin concludes, "Paul appropriately instructs women in the service of God to cover their hair since it is part of the female genitalia. According to Paul's argument, women may pray or prophesy in public worship along with men but only when both are decently attired. Even though no contemporary person would agree with the physiological conceptions informing Paul's argument from nature for the veiling of women, everyone would agree with his conclusion prohibiting the display of genitalia in public worship. Since the physiological conceptions of the body have changed, however, no physiological reason remains for continuing the practice of covering women's heads in public worship, and many Christian communities reasonably abandon this practice."
And now you know. I think this example demonstrates why we study the Bible in the context of its original writers and audience—because what modern person would have figured out this explanation on his or her own?
(Quotations taken from "Paul's Argument From Nature for the Veil in 1 Corinthians 11:13-15: A Testicle Instead of a Head Covering" by Troy Martin, published in the Journal of Biblical Literature. Used with permission.)
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