While each Epistle has several purposes, there is often a main purpose that strikes the reader. Galatians was intended to address issues around Gentiles being part of the Church; 2 Thessalonians addresses eschatological doctrine; 1 Corinthians addresses chaos, morality, and discipline in church conduct and governance. We could say that the predominant purpose of Romans is to preach the Gospel and hand it on for posterity.
Romans is a long epistle and the Gospel portion of it is lengthy. This may seem odd to modern Christians who may be used to condensed versions of the Gospel along the lines of “Jesus died in our place so that our sins could be forgiven.” I hasten to add that I am not opposed to shortened versions of the Gospel where appropriate, but do point out that frequently in Acts the Gospel is preached in a narrative format, just as Paul chooses to in Romans.
Paul’s Gospel is international and rooted in the Jewish Scriptures, which he presents as a record of oracles, covenants, and promises made by God to His people Israel. Paul depicts Christ as Jewish and human, thus both particular and universal. He also presents Him as man and God: both perfect and able to identify with us in our plight. Paul’s Jesus is the Saviour, the One who fulfils God’s promises to Israel and delivers us from darkness and the wrath of God.
Paul makes clear from the beginning that this salvation is a gift from God, not merited by our works and to be received by coming to God and trusting Him, forsaking former religious ties, and holding on for the end, though we do not see God with our eyes in this life.
Paul tells the story of our descent into darkness, which simultaneously reveals both our need for salvation and the fate of those who will not repent. He illustrates our spiritual darkness with examples, ranging from polytheism and idolatry, which would have been familiar to the Roman’s, littered and Rome was with temples and statues, to sexual misconduct and general disobedience and selfishness.
Here Paul’s theology moves on to two points: God’s temporary abandonment of the Gentiles (Deuteronomy 32 and Psalm 82); and the fact that God does not force salvation on anyone: we must freely accept the Gospel.
This allows Paul to set up the election and purpose of Israel, which is an essential element of his Gospel narrative. Paul also begins warning that sin leads to death: there is something from which we are to be saved as well as Someone we are to be saved for.
First let me thank two men: Rob, for his incredibly helpful book, and then C451 who, despite (or because?) of his own views on the subject, gave me his collection of books on women and their ordination (it may explain the dates of some of what I quote from) as well as some guidance which was offered with characteristic generosity of spirit.
Second, an apology because I know that at times I have let vent in ways which while they show my feelings, offer, as C451 put to me, “more heat than light, which never helps with illumination.” As Neo said to be, “we’re all human,” which while true and a good explanation, isn’t an excuse, any more than responding in kind, is an excuse. I hope that the last few posts have, to a large extent, rectified that failure on my part, but a general apology is hereby offered.
Third, an explanation of what I am trying to do might be in order, since some comments suggest that I have not been as clear as I thought. In my own Church the matter of women’s ordination is a done deal, and as C451 has, again with a generosity of spirit that shames me, it may be that other churches will find in it lessons and an example. I know C well enough to have spotted the coded caveat of “for good or ill”! What I am trying to do is to explain how someone who considers herself a high Anglican in the Anglo-Catholic tradition, can possibly have ended up supporting the ordination of women.
I want to begin with Phoebe, as a way of illustrating the wider context. We are told that Phoebe is a “helper” or a “servant”, and that is, of course, a translation of the Greek diakonos. Paul uses the same word to describe his own monistry in his letters to the Corinthians and Galatians, but in a purely English version of the New Testament you might be hard put to see their roles as parallel. It is hard to escape the conclusion that circular reasoning is at work here. We know that when the word is applied to Paul it represents what he does, which invests even the word “servant” with a halo. When it is applied to Phoebe, there is no halo. The Douay-Rheims is an honourable exception translating it as “in ministry”. The choice of the words “servant” or “helper” are, I fear, gendered. It goes thus: we know women were helpers in the Church, therefore we translate diakonos as helper. Then, when asked what the role of women was in the early church, we are told they were “helpers” and pointed to the NT as evidence, where, helpfully, that is indeed the word used – QED. Except, of course, for the circular reasoning. Now if we found the same translation of the word applied consistently to men as well as women, my point would fall away; but we don’t, so it doesn’t.
If we look at the Greek, Paul describes Phoebe as “being” (the participle ousan) “of the church is Cenchrae” which is why the DR uses “ministry” – it is clear from the context that Phoebe was in ministry in the church, and that is the sense in which she was a “helper” or “servant”. In other words, absent the gendered assumptions and no-one would have any reason to question that Phoebe was a “minister.” We can discuss what that means, but I hope this explains why I can’t avoid the issue of gendered assumptions.
While on the subject of Phoebe, it might be worth saying that when Paul says she is delivering the letter, that does not mean she was just the postman. The likelihood was that she would have been reading it out and answering questions about it – so she would have been in Paul’s confidence and had an idea of what he meant – something generations of scholars have wished for! This, of course, involved a public teaching role.
Paul also calls her a “prostasis”, another Greek word often translated in her case as “helper.” This is a difficult one because the word in that form is found only in Paul, but its masculine form, “prostasis” always denotes a form of authority, which of course may be why it is not often applied to Phoebe, if we are back to the cricular logic we have already identified. The majority of translations translate the word as “helper” or a synonym, you have to get to contemporary ones before the word “leader” is used. So again, we see how unconscious bias downplays the role of Phoebe. If she’s been a “he” called “Philip” I wonder how many translations would have used the word “helper”?
This has taken me further than I thought, and means that I shall need another post to say something about how it all maps onto leadership in the Church. Let me say though, in parting, that it is for each Church which inherits tradition to interpret it as it does. The Roman Catholic Church has a high doctrine of the magisterium, and therefore, whatever an Anglican might say about tradition does not apply to the way that Church views things. This is not an argument to be seen in a Roman Catholic context, though some in the communion will be challenged and are challenged by such arguments, it is, however, an argument to seen in a catholic context to explain how a high Anglican can not only accept, but welcome and celebrate the ordination of women who have been called (lucky things!).
Now there’s a topic guaranteed to arouse strong feelings. I should be surprised if someone has not already got their answers ready as to why women cannot be priests. Those arguments have a long pedigree and remain convincing to both the Catholic and Orthodox Churches, whilst the Church of England in the UK has managed to find a way of saying that women can be priests, but it is okay if you can’t accept that, as long as you accept it as being the position of the C of E. Naturally that has people at both ends of the spectrum of views on this dissatisfied, and women priests have been known to say occasionally that they feel that the language in which this is sometimes discussed makes them uneasy. Some feel that it is about time that everyone came round to their position, which, in that sense, aligns them squarely with those who have always opposed the idea of women priests. But that’s not what this posting is about, although it is relevant to it.
The readings for the feast of St Mary Magdalen reminded us of something that the Church has not always been good at stressing, which is the role played by women in the Church, and we see this from the beginning. But, as has often been pointed out, the Risen Christ is first seen by a woman, which, in Jewish law as it then existed, was not testimony which would stand up in court. This is of a piece with what we can glean from the New Testament about the earthly Mission of Jesus.
Many posts have appeared here about the role played by women in the New Testament and St Mark tells us that, in addition to those he names, “many other women” came with Jesus to Jerusalem. This was unusual at the time, and we know that the pattern continued from what Paul says. Romans 16 contains a long list of female names, and it is clear that they played a key part in the work of the first generation of the Great Commission. For those interested in a plausible fictional account centred on Phobe, I can recommend Paula Gooder’s book of that name which also contains some useful information on the role women played.
What is worth noting, in addition, is that the vivid picture we get from Paul is of a church where women and men minister together and where there do not seem to be rigid distinctions based on gender; those who can teach, teach, those who can prophesy, prophesy, there was no gender basis on which work you could do for Christ, just as there was no racial basis. Where the Spirit moved you, that was where you went. It is interesting, in relation to Phoebe, to note that St Paul describes her in three ways: as a benefactor, as a deacon but also as a sister. It is not her gifts not her position which define her within the body of Christ, it is the fact that she is a sister.
Those early Christian communities were, in that sense, more like some modern ones than was the case for many hundreds of years, where women and men worked together to build the kingdom. Yes, that is one of the things which led the Church of England down the route of ordaining women, and it is one of the things which its advocates elsewhere press. But if we stand back from the polemic which so often distracts us at this point, and from our current positions and those of our churches, it may just be worth looking at the fruits of the ordination of women and wondering whether they suggest the working of the Spirit or its absence.
The Catholic and Orthodox Churches have a clear position here, and I would hope that those who disagree with it will respect that; but, back to my initial comment, I hope that those of us who take the traditional view will at least be open to the question and examine the evidence. What is at issue here is not, pace the protagonists on both sides, but how we can disagree in faith, hope and charity. Too often our Christian history looks suspiciously like the rest of human history with us moved by the secular emotions of our fallen nature. But, one might protest, “this is a really important issue and it is important to – assert the eternal teaching of the Church/the lessons we have learned/that I am right – [delete according to taste]. It is precisely because it is important and it is precisely because we need to learn lessons that we should disagree as Christians should. The question, which I daresay comments will answer, is whether we can?
It can seem as though St Paul is being inconsistent when, in Romans 2:7 and 10, he writes that God will grant
eternal life to those who by patient continuance in doing good seek for glory, honor, and immortality; 8 but to those who are self-seeking and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness—indignation and wrath, 9 tribulation and anguish, on every soul of man who does evil, of the Jew first and also of the Greek; 10 but glory, honor, and peace to everyone who works what is good, to the Jew first and also to the Greek
In Chapter 3 he is clear that we are justified through faith in Christ alone, and in Chapter 4 he states bluntly:
But to him who does not work but believes on Him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is accounted for righteousness
something he repeats even more plainly in the following chapter:
Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have[ peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ
It is clear enough that ‘works’ matter, but it might help us to understand what is going on here with Paul if we examine what he means by ‘salvation’, not least since its use in modern society – ‘I am saved’ – can lead to some lack of clarity and the obscuring of Paul’s message.
The Good News Paul brings ‘is the power of God to salvation for everyone who believes, for the Jew first and also for the Greek.’ If we repent of our sins and have faith in Jesus, then the blessings of salvation will be ours. But what does Paul mean by ‘salvation’? Latterly, many in our society use it to refer to what is, in fact, just one of its benefits. It might be helpful if we distinguish the various benefits Paul says flow from our salvation: justification; sanctification; and glorification.
Justification is the Divine act which declares sinners to be righteous with God through the sacrifice made once and for all by Jesus Christ; he paid for our sins on the Cross, and through that faith we are made right with God. That, however, is the beginning of a process, and those (such as Bosco) who claim it is the whole of salvation need to read their Bibles with more attention.
Both St Paul and St James warn Christians about the importance that their works will have at the last judgment, basing themselves on what Jesus himself says in Matthew’s Gospel. James himself commends those who bring an erring brother back, and it seems clear enough from these warnings, all aimed at Christians that through our behaviour, we can lose what we gain through the sacrifice of Christ. However, if they Spirit dwells in us, He makes us alive and justification leads us to sanctification, which is the process by which God develops the new life in us, and imparts spiritual life to our dead soul. This leads, in turn, to glorification – the ultimate and final salvation of the whole person when we come face to face with God, who will mould us in the image of Christ.
We are not saved from the wrath of God by our works, but if we are truly justified by faith in Christ, then that will manifest itself in good fruit, and so God will grant ‘eternal life to those who by patient continuance in good seeks for glory, honour and immortality’:
but to those who are self-seeking and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness—indignation and wrath, 9 tribulation and anguish, on every soul of man who does evil, of the Jew first and also of the Greek
A common enough complaint urged against those of us who spend a good deal of time on the subject of God’s love is ‘what about the wrath of God?’ It is a fair enough comment. I would certainly be open to the suggestion that in its reaction against a long period when almost nothing but the wrath of God was stressed, the Church may have gone too far in forgetting about it: God’s love, and our love for him are paramount – but the wrath of God should not be forgotten.
Several times in the first chapter of the letter to the Romans Paul writes about the ‘wrath of God’. It is perhaps significant that the second century heretic, Marcion, should have omitted ‘God’ from verse 18 and thus have ended up with something impersonal, he was, after all, steeped n Greek philosophy. It seems, sometimes, that the modern commentators who struggle with this and explain it away as archaic, are prone to the same line of thought, as such a concept of God has more in common with Greek philosophical abstractions than it does with the personal and active God we meet in Holy Scripture. Certainly Paul’s use of the phrase ‘wrath of God’ along with the idea that God ‘gives’ sinners ‘over’ to a ‘darkened mind’ seems many miles away from the notion of an impersonal God.
All of which takes me to the text Romans 1:28-32, where we see the results of turning from God. God’s wrath is directed against the sins we commit. How can a just and loving Father be indifferent to our destructive selfishness and the effects of our departure from his holy law? What sort of Father would that be? Which of us seeing our child holding a knife would not be concerned, and who, among us, having told the child of the danger, would not be angry if he or she used it to harm others or him or herself? Here, in the last few verses of Romans, we get a picture of what life looks like when we reject God and trust in our own will and wisdom. We see, here, the almost inexhaustible list of vices which arise from human depravity. We may try to rationalise certain sins, but God judges them all.
When we reject God, we are unable to think correctly about him or his will for us, and from our darkened minds comes forth this list of vices. It is humbling to reflect how many of them one is guilty of oneself, and they should serve us as a check-list of what to avoid. But if our mind is twisted out of shape by our worship of our own image, then we shall go where we should not go. God is unable to stop us – we will not let him, so he lets us go our own way.
But should we repent, why then how wonderful it is. Then we do not walk as the ‘rest of the Gentiles’, alienated from God with darkened minds and conformed to the world. Rather, conform to Christ, and our minds will be enlightened and renewed, and we shall know his will, and through Grace, we shall follow it.
“Whatever you do, do it with your whole heart.” ( Colossians 3: 23 ) - The blog of Father Richard Peers SMMS, Director of Education for the Diocese of Liverpool
All Along the Watchtower 
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