begins with a brief survey of contemporary approaches to the issue of women’s ordination and argues that egalitarian positions relinquish evangelical claims to an authoritative Bible. The remainder and bulk of this discursus assumes for the sake of argument that, at least on the face of it, Paul’s argument is based upon Scripture and that he is appealing to Scripture in order to make a theological point.3 A suggestion is made that, in order to appreciate Paul’s exegetical argument, evangelical readers need to suspend their scientific demands of inner-biblical exegesis. Pains are then taken to imitate the hermeneutical mindset of a first century exegete, offering an imaginative, but representative, example of the types of things that Paul could have been thinking in 1 Tim 2.9–15. During the course of this section of the book, two main points are made: (1) Paul’s exegetical argument depends upon non-scientific text associations and (2) Paul was arguing theologically for a perpetual patriarchy amongst God’s people on account of his understanding of gender traits. Complementarians are then asked to explain how Scripture can be considered authoritative today in light of the “non-scientificality” of inner-biblical exegesis and especially the particular example of Second Temple theological argumentation given in 1 Tim 2.9–15.
I. Egalitarian Evangelicals and the Authority of Scripture
Egalitarians, for our purposes, are those who are for the ordination of women. Many evangelical egalitarians have rightly argued that the socio-cultural dimension of Paul’s injunctions against women in 1Tim 2 and elsewhere cannot be denied. Two predominant egalitarian arguments are that Paul intended his restriction to affect only one specific Christian community or that Paul was forced to prohibit women on account of various cultural factors that are no longer operative. Craig Keener provides an example of the first when he writes:
It would be surprising if an issue that would exclude at least half the body of Christ from a ministry of teaching would be addressed in one text, unless that text really addressed only a specific historical situation rather than setting forth a universal prohibition.4
Brian J. Dodd is typical of those who proffer the second:
. . . it may be that Paul’s later restrictions on women’s behavior were necessary because of the implications his converts were drawing from his very progressive views on such things [gender roles]. When Paul saw how far they were taking his teaching and the effects it was having on those he was seeking to convert, he may have pulled in the reins . . .5
Scholars have taken diverse approaches and have begun to ask very complex questions by connecting the issue of women in ministry to prevailing sociological patterns. In response to a declaration issued by the Roman Catholic Church some scholars have deliberated as follows:
Only within some heretical sects of the early centuries, principally Gnostic ones, do we find attempts to have the priestly ministry exercised by women . . .
How are we to interpret the constant and universal practice of the church? Does the negative fact thus indicate a norm, or is it to be explained by historical and by social and cultural circumstances? In the present case, is an explanation to be found in the position of women in ancient and mediaeval society and in a certain idea of male superiority stemming from that society’s culture?6
A different approach would be to take a step back methodologically and to begin asking pragmatic questions like, What would prompt a person to question the universality of the prohibition in the first place? One obvious answer is that the prohibition seems nonsensical or worse, unconscionable, given the reader’s own cultural context. Such tremendous tension inevitably exerts considerable pressure upon the reader’s pre-understanding in light of what a particular text apparently teaches. This conflict between the reader’s sensibilities and a text’s time-conditioned hortatory message has engendered at least two hermeneutical responses. The first is to challenge the cultural understanding of the biblical writers; the second is to neutralize the content of a text in such a way that its apparent message ceases to be its actual message.
For example, evangelicals have experienced ceaseless controversy concerning the lack of agreement between the current scientific consensus and the Genesis creation account. Evangelicals who disagree with the historically popular, literal, 144-hour interpretation have tended to re-examine the opening chapters of Genesis in order to determine whether there are any viable alternatives to the literal approach. Each alternate reading “neutralizes” the text, quelling its hitherto apparent force and discovering a different meaning altogether. By contrast, others have admitted that the Genesis account is a stubborn one that does not submit to fresh re-readings. In this case, an evangelical may elect to analyze the cultural assumptions that are implicit within a given text. He might then proceed to filter out an abiding “word from God” that survives the contingent historical and cultural vicissitudes that occasioned its inscripturation. He might argue that because the creation account is time-conditioned, its true meaning is rooted “behind” the given text in a way that is practically independent of and/or virtually unaffected by the cultural milieu during which the text itself was written. Those evangelicals who do not accept the literal view typically explore one (or both) of these two options.7
A third approach, however, is to critically examine the cultural assumptions of the contemporary reader.8 It is now common knowledge that a contemporary reader possesses a historical consciousness that can either grant her tremendous access to the text or effectively bar her from it. Scholars have argued for both positive and negative consequences of a historical awareness, but the moral seems to be that the historic process can work both positively and negatively and indeed may work both at the same time.
For example, Mardi Keyes believes that the gospel was intended as good news for women, but that unfortunately the church has become bad news for many women.9 She contends that Scripture is always contrary to sinful cultural practices and assumptions and that the blame for ongoing social injustices based on gender lies in the patriarchal system of the church. She asserts that the “clear” New Testament evidence should not be silenced by others that are riddled by problems.10 She continues:
You may be surprised that what I am saying does not match the practice of much of the church throughout history or even today. Too often Christians have fallen captive to human traditions that conflict with the radical New Testament message.
Judging from her writings, what may partially motivate Keyes is the perception that Christianity has grown out of touch with contemporary mores and that one inexcusable cause for this is the church’s historic decision to restrict ordination to men. Her strategy is to divide the church from the Scriptures and argue that the church “fell captive” to its historic moment, whereas the Scriptures, however, have always taught the truth (i.e., Keyes’ egalitarian position). In other words, the church’s practice has become an unnecessary obstacle to a contemporary hearing of the gospel, but it is not the case that the Scriptures have ever endorsed the church’s practice. It is obvious to us now—or so the argument goes—that it was a thorough-going patriarchy that supported the practice, while Scripture, of course, embraced no such arrangement.
To her credit, Keyes has rightly recognized that each generation of Christians will most likely consider only those interpretations that are culturally plausible and that unbelievers will only consider those religious options that are culturally plausible. Hence, Christians need to be aware of cultural factors. Unfortunately for Keyes, however, by allowing her historical consciousness to accomplish the separation of generations of believers from the true meaning of the biblical text, she has at once undermined her own cultural right to the meaning of biblical texts. What I mean is that Keyes’ clear texts may very well have been our predecessors’ obscure texts and their plain ones, Keyes’ obscure ones.11 These conjectures can only be offered as hypotheses here, but still, this is no small dilemma to ponder, for it seems to imply that the Bible will mean different things to different people at different times. In other words, Keyes’ argument would be helped along if she proposed that at present it seems that the Bible supports such and such a stance and not that it has always taught such and such a teaching (or that it always will).
It is no secret that today’s cultural ethos is such that it cannot provisionally entertain Paul’s prohibition, much less seriously accept it as presently binding. In fact, with so many scholars and clergy obsessed with the correction of male oppression