The Eternal Functional Subordination Debate: Why It Matters

Something strange is happening in the Fundamentalist world. For a few decades now, Wayne Grudem and a few others have been teaching that God the Son is eternally subordinate to God the Father.

The argument is as such:
Because
a) The Father begets the Son, and
b) The Son economically submits to the will of the Father
Therefore,
c) The Son is immanently (eternally) subordinate/submissive to the Father

The position is termed "eternal functional subordination," or "EFS" for short, and for a time, it was coupled with the position that the Son did not exist from eternity. Its advocates also attempt to maintain that while despite such subordination, the Son is not less than the Father.

The position becomes even more convoluted because EFS advocates then take this bewildering attempt at Trinitarian theology and try to apply it to human gender relations. It has become a long and mind-boggling way of arguing that women should submit to men while also trying to maintain that women are not inherently inferior to men.

The major disconnect is that subordination is inherently inferiority. To say that the Son is eternally subordinated to the Father is to say that the Son is immanently less than the Father. It is true that the Father takes precedence in the order of being (that is to say, the Son and Holy Spirit are begotten and precede, respectively, from the Father). This so-called "monarchy of the Father," (spelled out by the ELCA and Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America in this document; cf. para. 4) though, does not relate to obedience and submission. To suggest otherwise is to suggest that somehow the Persons of the Trinity have different eternal intentions or goals that the Son must relinquish to obey the Father. Or, using the terminology of the Athanasian Creed, would be to suggest that the members of the Trinity are not co-equal in majesty and glory.

(And, while we're at it, to say that women must submit to men is to say that women are inherently inferior to men. Of course, the claim is always just under the surface of Fundamentalist complementarian writing, but they refuse to acknowledge it. The Son is eternally begotten by the Father, and is consubstantial/of one being with the Father. In a lesser way, according to Genesis 2, Eve is made after Adam from a part of Adam's body; she is made of the same stuff. In Genesis 2 -- and notably, not in Genesis 1 -- Adam takes precedence in the order of Creation, but there is no reason to believe that Eve is therefore inferior to or must be submissive to Adam. Substance matters far more than order.)

For whatever reason, this debate exploded onto the scene during the summer of 2016. I won't go into the full details of the debate (there's simply not enough time), but you can read some of the main arguments as summarized by Scot McKnight here, as well as a longer rebuttal published on "Mortification of Spin" here and a snarky post "guest written" by John Calvin. patron of so many EFS advocates, here.

Interestingly, both complementarians and egalitarians sided against the EFS advocates. This is a minority position, even within the Fundamentalist/Complemenatrian/Pseudo-Calvinist camp.

The debate spread to the Evangelical Theological Society's annual meeting, where Bruce Ware (one of the EFS advocates changed his position to admit that the Son is eternally begotten after all. (Here's Southern Baptist Theological Seminary's article on the matter.)

There are a number of reasons to completely discount this position. I won't go into them in detail (again, there really isn't time -- these are debates that have already raged  and lasted for decades leading up to Nicea and later Chalcedon), but I will offer a brief summary:

1) The Creeds -- As to the position that the son is not eternally begotten (now, thankfully, cast aside), it is one of the key elements of the Nicene Creed. To confess otherwise is to venture into the Arian heresy. As to EFS, in general: the Nicene Creed confesses that Father and Son are consubstantial. There is no lesser deity in the Trinity. The Athanasian Creed spells it out further:

But the Godhead of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, is all one, the Glory equal, the Majesty co-eternal....
....And in this Trinity none is afore, or none other; none is greater, or less than another; but the whole three Persons are co-eternal together and co-equal.

The Athanasian Creed goes explains that the Son is only subordinate in the Incarnation -- that is, economically. EFS, then, is right out.

2) The Trouble with the Trinity -- Discussing the Trinity is remarkably difficult. There's a reason that councils were convened and otherwise noble theologians were deemed heretics. It's easy to get on the wrong track; as when traveling a great distance, changing your bearing by a few degrees can put you off course by hundreds of miles. Turn too far in one direction, accidentally end up becoming a tritheist or a unitarian. In over-emphasizing the distinction between the Father and Son (and, let's be honest, ignoring the Holy Spirit through and through), the EFS advocates start down the shockingly short path to tritheism. If the Son is subordinate, and therefore lesser, then what we end up with is a set of three gods rather than one God who exists in trinity.

3) "God is not 'man' said in a loud voice." -- The basis for EFS is the assumption that because human sons should submit to human fathers, therefore the Son submits to the Father. Despite all of Fundamentalist rhetoric about God's holiness, that God is so much further above humanity (rhetoric that, while taken in weird directions, is at least rooted in sound theological thinking), how strange it is then that EFS advocates are attempting to take a model for human relationships and read it into the inner workings of the Holy Trinity, that blessed mystery which exists beyond human understanding.

So...why does this matter? Why spend time giving a crap about an esoteric point of theology within the Fundamentalist world? By and large, the Mainline and Progressives have ignored this debate. A few have pointed to it as an entertaining side show, but few bloggers have actually weighed in -- as though Mainline and Progressive Christians don't really care.

A few things.

First, and this one is personal: Fundamentalists, including EFS advocates, spend so much time calling progressives heretics, claiming that we are not truly Christians for our openness to the findings of modern science, for the ordination of women and an egalitarian understanding of Church and family, for a willingness to discuss, let alone affirm, the role of LGBT+ persons in the Church. And yet when Grudem, Ware, and others leaders in the Fundamentalist world accept an outright heretical opinion, Albert Mohler does mental gymnastics to explain why they are not heretics. Mohler is one of the men who led the crusade against moderates in the SBC. At SBTS, he is venerated as the patron saint of Baptist fidelity, the champion of orthodoxy, and yet he is unwilling to turn his inquisition upon his friends. Rampant hypocrisy matters, and we should be prepared to call it out while defending our position in the Church.

Second, and as importantly, orthodoxy matters. I'll write more about this in a coming post (this one has already turned out much longer than I expected), but let me offer a quick summary. Progressives have been far too quick to say that the only thing that matters is loving, but we have been unwilling to do lay theological groundwork about what Christ means when he commands us to love God, neighbor, enemy, and each other. Theology, for all of its complications, is vital to the Church. We cannot claim we are willing to ask difficult questions if we are unwilling to wrestle with how these questions might shape our theology. Otherwise, what's the point? If all we care about is a general sense of love and community -- noble goals, certainly -- but without a clear theological framework for what they look like, why not become secular humanists? It'd certainly be easier to preach on Steinbeck than Job. It'd be simpler to preach that the key to community is emotional vulnerability rather than Christ crucified and risen. This means, though, that we must be prepared to enter into debates over points of theology, to interpret Sacred Scripture and the Tradition and make arguments rather than "I feel..." statements. The EFS position is an attack on orthodoxy and women's rights
. If progressive Christians want to have a voice in the Church, we must be prepared to but forward an orthodox theology.

Epiphany: A Brief Word on the Forgotten Season

When writing my sermons, I often have "false starts" that don't lead anywhere. As I prepare to preach on the Baptism of our Lord this coming Sunday, I found myself reflecting on the nature of Epiphany. It's not a great introduction as far as homilies are concerned, but something I still found worth sharing.

- - -

We're at an odd point in our liturgical calendar. Advent is over. Christmas has ended. We aren't at Lent yet. No, we're in the season after Epiphany. And what do we know about Epiphany? This is not the big feast day of our year – especially after the intense celebration of Christmas. Add to that our confusion of Epiphany – in the West, it developed into a celebration of the Magi, an event popular culture has rolled into Christmas day. As such, Epiphany and its surrounding events tend to go completely unnoticed. Unlike Christmas or Maundy Thursday, most Protestant congregations don't hold a special service to celebrate the Epiphany of our Lord.

By comparison, our sister and brothers in the Orthodox Church make a big deal out of Epiphany (which they know under the name Theophany). Their celebration follows the more ancient pattern and combines the visit of the Magi, our text for today (the Baptism of our Lord), and Christ's first miracle at the wedding in Cana of Galillee, turning water into wine.

This shift in perspective is important – even vital. We think of Epiphany as an end -- the end of the Christmas season (if we even make it that long), moving on to the long wait until Ash Wednesday. Time to sit on our hands and wait for a more interesting season. But if we celebrate Epiphany -- fully celebrate it, with midweek services, and a feast of its own, and bring back ALL of the readings -- if we focus on the Magi AND the Baptism of our Lord AND the Wedding at Cana, it becomes something entirely different. It's not an ending – it's the beginning of Christ's public ministry.

Husbands, You Will Benefit From Your Wife's (and Other Women's) Theology

Lottie Moon
Baptist Missionary
Egalitarian Icon?

Some odd stuff is going on over at the SBC and within fundamentalist circles. There's the ongoing struggle over "Calvinism" (by which they mean only a Calvinist view of Divine Election) between Southern Baptist seminaries and leaders. There's the debate over eternal subordination within the Trinity. And then there's the odd move within the circle of ESV translators to say that Eve's desire will be "contrary" to Adam (a translation choice they moved to make permanent before backtracking).  So many of these debates have taken aim at a single issue: feminism. Women's rights are in the crosshairs. Even in the debate over subordinationism, the issue isn't the Son's obedience to the Father; rather, it's an attempt to make an argument from the inner workings of the immanent Trinity to the inner workings of human marriage (more on this in a later post).

Many of these odd debates and massive breaks from tradition are part of an attempt to argue that women are lesser than men. For the likes of Grudem, Piper, and Mohler, it is no longer enough to claim that Scripture forbids women from preaching or serving as elders and deacons; rather, they are attempting to reshape all of theology in the image of 1950s suburban America. In the new Fundamentalist understanding of gender, men are men only when they rule over the household, and women are women only when they stay at home to produce dinner and children.


The Fundamentalists are playing a dangerous game. While they confess with their lips that men and women are created as equal, their theology undermines this at every turn. In turn, their theology gives way to rampant abuse. With all of their language of men as protectors, they fail to stand up to the abusers hiding in their congregations. Look no further than CJ Mahaney and Sovereign Grace Ministries. Mahaney refused to take action to protect women and children in his parishes, and he is welcomed with open arms -- and a quick dismissal of his critics -- to address Together for the Gospel. This wasn't some tiny, no-name congregation with an "under-the-radar" scandal; that would have been despicable enough. Rather, this was a scandal at the heart of the complementarian movement, and it was largely ignored.

Consider The Gospel Coalition's attempt to argue for male superiority from the first three chapters of Genesis:

In Genesis 2:15-17 he speaks to Adam, commanding him to “cultivate” and “keep/guard” the Garden of Eden (v. 15). God forbids Adam from eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (v. 17) and warns him that disobedience leads to judgment. The word of God comes to Adam before Eve is even created (v. 22). This suggests that Adam, as Eve's leader, was tasked with conveying God's commands to her.

The article goes on to suggest that God interacts with women (Eve) through men (Adam), while the serpent attacks men (Adam) through women (Eve). This convoluted argument has led some theologians in these circles to argue that Adam's original sin was listening to Eve rather than eating the forbidden fruit:

Adam as head must take responsibility for the fall. God commissioned him to rule and subdue all creation. Ironically, a reptilian creature and a piece of fruit brought down the man who was meant to rule them. In the process he failed at leading his wife.

And then the reverse must also be true: that Eve's sin was her failure to submit to Adam's authority. Grudem himself makes a similar argument in Biblical Foundations for Manhood and Womanhood, suggesting that independent women become "usurpers" (cf. p 39). While self-styled "complementarians" say that Adam is at fault for failing to fully lead, their arguments arrive at the logical conclusion that Eve's sin was to disregard her husband's authority rather than acting contrary to the command of God.

Building on this complex understanding of pre-original sin within the Fall, the SBC Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission's Ronni Kurz boldly proclaims: "Husband, your wife will benefit from your theology." His gist:

Imagine Adam standing up at the beginning of the dialogue and saying, “Eve, no. We know that God, who gave us each other and the garden, is our satisfaction and delight. We lack nothing when we have him.” While we’ll never know if this hypothetical situation would have changed the outcome, the moral of the story remains: husbands should seek theological awareness—and obedience to that knowledge—for the good of their marriages.
...
Husbands, your wives need you to deeply know the Lord and his ways. She needs you to have thought critically about the gospel. She needs you to have sat in awe at the depth of Christ and be ready with all your might to show and lead her to the truth. She needs your theology.

Now let me be perfectly clear: I affirm the title, that wives benefit from theologically sound husbands. But I also affirm that husbands benefit from theologically sound wives, and parents benefit from theologically sound children.

Fundamentalists in the complementarian camp would have us believe that women have little to offer to the Church, that they need defending and guidance because God did not bless them with the full imago Dei. Somehow, in the complementarian world, women lack something that men have. The complementarian position is, to paraphrase Orwell, that all people are equal, but some are more equal than others.

This could not be further from the truth.

First, they apply a twisted heremeneutic. They ignore Genesis 1, in which male and female are created together on the sixth day, in the image of God, as equals and the capstone of all creation. This poor exegetical method also assumes that by being created at the end, from Adam, that Eve is somehow inferior rather than seeing men and women as bookends of creation. And, lest we forget, Adam is formed from such mundane material as dirt, whereas Eve is created from something as noble as Adam.

(There is plenty more to say about scriptural arguments, and written by people far more experienced than I. As a starting point, head over to the Christians for Biblical Equality website.)

Secondly, though, and more importantly, let us consider the real, lived value of women in the community of faith. And since Kurz is playing fanciful games of "What if the Fall didn't happen?" let me propose my own sceneario: Imagine if, rather than Adam standing up (as Kurz suggests), Eve had said to the serpent, "Uh. No. Nice try, but the Lord has commanded that I not eat of this tree. The Lord has provided a garden for my beloved and I, and I will put my faith in God the Creator rather than in a creature." Boom, problem solved. No Adam necessary.

But since, hypotheticals aside, sin has entered the world, let us consider the role of women in Scripture: Miriam and Deborah led the people of Israel. The Blessed Virgin Mary brought Christ into the world -- and without asking her betrothed for permission. Mary Magdalene was the apostle to the Apostles. Phoebe and Junia led the early Church.

Saint Clare of Assisi

Throughout history, women have been vitally important to the Church. Helena and Monica shaped the thoughts and devotion of their sons, Constantine and Augustine. Consider the import of Clare and Julian and Teresa. Where would the Church of England be without the reign of Elizabeth I? Think about Lottie Moon and Mother Teresa.

From personal experience, I cannot tell you how important the voices of women have been in shaping my thought. Women in ministry -- professors, seminarians, and clergy -- have brought forward issues I never would have considered. Even in areas of disagreement, women have pushed me to clarify my own thought and, in cases, convinced me of my own shortcomings. Some of the most innovative parishes are those being led by women in clerical collars. The entire Church catholic has benefited from their vocation.

My wife, through her own inquisitiveness, research, insight, and brilliance, has pushed me to deeply wrestle with issues I would have never given a second thought without her prodding. She is my most valued sounding board, editor, and reviewer; my preaching would suffer were it not for her. My wife, a dedicated and faithful laywoman, points out issues that I, after a decade of education in religion and theology and work in ministry, have never considered.

I have benefited from her theology, and I have benefited from the theology of women across the ages. Women are leading the Church, from the Pulpit and the Altar and from in the pews. Women have much to offer -- not just for the benefit of men, but for the entire Church. This argument isn't just about what women can do for men. Men most certainly do benefit from strong women. Rather, this is about what God is doing through Creation and the Church. It's about the vital role women have in the Body of Christ and the role of the Church as an in-breaking of the restored Creation.

The Holy Spirit is at work across the Church, sending us to call all people to God; and She has given women a strong voice.

Russell Moore and SBC Infighting

Shortly after the election, I mentioned, in passing, the Fundamentalist failure to decry Donald Trump's racism and religious bigotry. One name stood out among the rest: Russell Moore, the president of the Southern Baptist Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission. Think of him as the SBC's chief lobbyist.

Moore was the most prominent Fundamentalist voice criticizing Donald Trump -- and he was largely alone. Moore was among the few willing to criticize the president-elect not only for Trump's adultery but also for his verbal attacks on women, people of color, immigrants, and Muslims.

Moore stood alone as most of his colleagues caved in: Wayne Grudem, Jerry Fallwell, and Richard Land (Moore's predecessor at the helm of the ERLC).

Now Moore is facing the predictable back-lash.

The Religion News Service is reporting:

[...]The Wall Street Journal reported some of Moore’s critics are considering withdrawing support for the Southern Baptist Convention’s Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission, which Moore has led since 2013. 

The Journal quoted Robert Jeffress, senior pastor at First Baptist Dallas and a Trump supporter, who said members of his church don’t believe the ERLC “represents our church’s beliefs.” 

Some SBC members fear Moore’s stances will limit their access to the new administration. And Louisiana Baptists have asked their leaders to study recent actions of the ERLC, though the convention’s executive director, David Hankins, called defunding the agency “a last resort.”

Moore, for his part, is apologizing if Baptists thought he was attacking their faith (a marginal courtesy he has not extended to those of us who support LGBT rights).

Evangelical columnist Jonathan Merritt's take on the controversy is well worth reading in full, but here's the gist:

Apparently, funds should go toward mission efforts unless they can buy Baptists access to the president. 

Many Southern Baptists believe Trump represents their best hope at social dominance, or at least social renewal. They naturally want someone who is well-positioned to capitalize on their political agenda, not someone sitting in the bleachers watching it from afar. But unlike these Southern Baptists, Moore will not trade his principles and positions for a seat at the president’s table.

 I disagree with Russell Moore on no shortage of issues, but I applaud his bold willingness to stand up to the political hungry voices of his own denomination.

Lex Credendi: Liturgy is Not Enough

Last month, I wrote about the identity-bearing narratives used by white nationalists, especially co-opting certain elements of Romanticism, to build up a mythology of white male superiority. I suggested that the Church has a better narrative and better rituals which expose the violent lies of white nationalism:

The Church has better rituals than the racists. Ours are Good, True, and Beautiful. Our rituals are means of grace, by which God is present in our midst. The Holy Spirit hovers over the water in our baptismal font. Our Risen Lord meets us on the Altar Table. 

When the Church celebrates the Divine Service of the Holy Eucharist, we re-tell the grand narrative that God created the world and has redeemed humanity from our own demonic actions. We re-live our forgiveness and reconciliation, we greet each other as equals with a sign of God's peace, and we are re-membered into the one everlasting Body of Christ. And then we are sent forth in peace to serve the Lord.

I stand by what I said. The Sacraments, and the liturgy by which we celebrate them, are means of grace, and through them, God is continuing to redeem the cosmos.

Upon further reflection, though, I feel I must concede an ugly truth: racism lives on, even in liturgical traditions. The most pressing example is Dylan Roof, the terrorist who martyred nine black Christians in Charleston, SC. Roof was raised in a Lutheran (ELCA) congregation -- and one just a few miles from Lutheran Theological Southern Seminary.

More broadly, the Roman Catholic Church still has its dark corners. During the 2016 campaign, a leaked e-mail from a Democratic operative claimed that many GOP members were Catholics because they were "attracted to the systematic thought and severely backwards gender relations" and the Roman Church is "the most socially acceptable politically conservative religion." And while I know too many progressive faithful Catholics to believe that the Catholic Church is "politically conservative" (rather, like the entire Church, Catholicism defies human political binaries), there is a disturbing truth to the leaked letter.

Consider Rudy Giulliani and Newt Gingrich, Catholics who treat the Church as a useful political tool but seem to be unconcerned with any of the Church's teachings on fidelity in marriage, the death penalty, or care for the poor.

More to the point, though, consider Milo Yiannopolous, a leading voice against women's rights and Islam. (To the point of my previous post, he took on the name of the German composer Wagner.) Yiannopolous claims to be a practicing Catholic.

More terrifying examples abound on the fringes of Rome, in movements that have been excommunicated. Antisemitism runs rampant in the "traditionalist" Latin-only organizations like the Society of Saint Pius X and its own break-away group, the Society of Saint Pius V.

Things get even weirder when you look at some of the Facebook pages dedicated to Eastern Orthodoxy. Mixed in with the videos of the Divine Liturgy and pictures of monks are dire warnings about the scourge of Islam, praises of Putin and the new Russian nationalism, and other troubling signs of European ethnic supremacy.

Certain groups embrace Catholicism and Orthodoxy not only because they are "socially acceptable" but because they play into the mythos of white nationalism. A small faction co-opts the beauty of the liturgical tradition and the violent medieval and Renaissance history of Rome and Constantinople.

Crusaders Entering Constantinople
Gustave Dore, 19th cent.

We've seen this before: 19th century British Romanticism saw both a recovery of the Catholic liturgy alongside a glorification of images of crusading knights, both as ways of bolstering British colonial attitudes. Neo-gothic parishes and cathedrals soared alongside stylized depictions of King Richard the Lionheart. Crusade language is not uncommon. They play up the imagery of Constantinople -- and Kiev and Moscow -- as the last lines of defense against the "Turks." They play up the imagery of a Holy Roman Empire fighting a holy war against invaders -- from Eastern Europe, from North Africa, from the Levant.

In short, there is a terrifying move to use the beautiful solemnity of the liturgy as a veneer for racism, to radicalize young men in the Church.

I have long been an advocate for the phrase lex orandi, lex credendi -- the law of prayer, the law of belief. What we say and do during the Mass shapes our faith. I still hold to this. But it is not enough -- or, more correctly, we need to follow through with the second half of the saying.

All too often, we settle for aesthetic liturgy devoid of any sense of orthodoxy. We leave our praxis at in the pews and at the Altar, rather than going out to live in the world as the Body of Christ.

To expose the powers and principalities that would corrupt the Church and its liturgy, we must be clear in our theology. We must be willing to label sin and evil, to point them out. We must be able to point to the Creeds and Scripture, do a doctrine of Creation, that dismantles racism. We must be able to explain what it means when we continually quote the First Epistle of Saint John, that "God is love." Those of us with the unenviable task of climbing into the pulpit must be willing to address the horror of sin, evil, and death -- not as obstacles to holistic living, but as forces that oppose God. Teachers must be catechists, willing to dissect what it means to "renounce the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God" and to "put your whole trust in [Christ's] grace and love."

And then, we must be willing to actually go in peace and serve the Lord. The dismissal is not some polite suggestion. It's part of what makes us an apostolic Church: that we are sent out to prepare the way of the Lord. It's not vain repetition -- unless we fail to heed the commandment.

If we fail to believe what we do, we risk treating the Divine Service like a facade, a hollow structure used to hide the ugliness underneath. God has given us the Sacraments as means of grace to transform that ugliness, not hide it.

Pfatteicher's Dissent

Throughout my series, I've suggested that expressing continuity between Advent and Lent is desirable. Philip Pfatteicher, Lutheran liturgist extraordinaire and among my academic heroes, disagrees.  Here's his thinking from the Manual on the Liturgy for the Lutheran Book of Worship:

The traditional color of Advent purple, the royal color of the coming King. The preferred color in the Lutheran Book of Worship, however, is blue, which has a precedent in the Swedish Church and in the Mozarabic rite. Blue suggests hope, a primary theme of Advent. In any case, the Advent parakeets should not be the same as those used for Lent, for the character of the two seasons is quite different, and the only symbol common to both seasons is the Lamb of God.

No word on if his reasoning pertains exclusively to symbols embroider on the vestments and paraments (such as a Star of Bethlehem for Advent and the Spear of Longinus for Lent) or if his thinking extends to even simple vestments free of added emblems.

Color and Adiaphora

I have repeatedly chalked liturgical colors up to a matter of adiaphora. At the end of the day, I'm not terribly concerned.

Have I spent the better part of a week researching and writing about liturgical colors? Yes. Because I'm a nerd.

Am I going to excommunicate anyone over it? No.

Still, I don't believe adiaphora is synonymous with "unimportant." Those charged with caring for sacred things should always think carefully about everything. The seemingly trivial decisions we make have resounding implications.

In the words of Paul Strodach, from his liturgical commentary A Manual on Worship:

Use of Liturgical Colors, and hangings and vestments in such colors, are not arbitrary or recent invention or innovation. They are the development of church sue and expression through many centuries. There is a definite purpose in their employment: it is to teach through the eye. They are symbolic, and by this means the worshiper receives constantly and silently an external comment or lesson which calls to mind the period of the Church Year through which he is passing, in which he is worshiping, and the great facts of redemption memorialized. Such a contribution is very helpful: it adds its individual not to the great harmony of the worship in which he is engaging.