First book in my series on reading a range of views on the Bible and gay rights. Grenz ultimately represents the traditionalist view, but with some welcome nuance. This one’s probably the oldest book I’ll read as part of this project, and it sometimes shows its age.
Positives:
Grenz’s general approach is incredibly gracious. He seems to be even-handed in considering counter arguments and openly mourns the way that such intense passions have taken hold of this issue on both sides.
He’s careful exegete that doesn’t over explain or overstate his case. As a result, he recognizes the inherent drawbacks in heavily relying on the Sodom & Gomorrah passages and OT law. His seems to exist in a middle ground (at least relative to other traditionalists) - he acknowledges that the biblical authors (and much of the church’s historical tradition) have no conception of gayness as an orientation and therefore don’t/can’t technically speak against it directly. However, the Bible does consider same-sex activity in a variety of contexts and never really gives an inch on the issue. I appreciate that he recognizes that the issue ultimately comes back to hermeneutics and deciding what a person does with that sort of trajectory. Even as someone whose bias leans towards affirming, I will say there’s not much I find to disagree with here exegetically.
His theology of sexuality is thoughtful and insightful without being too in the weeds. I particularly found his connection of sexual desire with a larger desire for wholeness as enlightening. That being said, I still found his work here somewhat lacking.
While his analysis is still plenty dated, he’s pretty careful to not fall into the common pitfalls of the time, at least by partially recognizing his own lane. Other than a few side comments about the complexity of sexual identify formation, he has no interest in arguing it’s a conscious choice or operating on the assumption that promiscuity is an inevitable byproduct of being gay.
Negatives:
His theology of sexuality is limited in that it doesn’t successfully deal with the question of celibacy. On one hand, he addresses it in a fairly direct way (the Bible only carves out a spot for faithful heterosexual marriages or celibacy), but he doesn’t really discuss how this connects to his premise of desire for wholeness. The quick answer could be that celibate people choose to have that desire unmet (which Grenz recognizes that possibility in a slightly different context), but that seems somewhat unsatisfying considering how much celibacy is privileged in the early church. I think there’s an answer to this, Grenz just didn’t fully take the question up.
Grenz also overstates the (married heterosexual) sex positive nature of the early church. There’s some proof-texting at work here. He can bring in a few quotes of church fathers who have something good to say about sex, but he ultimately glosses over the first few centuries of church history where the majority hold up celibacy as a higher calling - to the extent that several church fathers even encourage people to remain celibate within marriage. Does this really change his overall argument? Yes and no. The fact that he doesn’t own this chapter in church history and the fact that he never really addresses the polygyny common throughout the OT prevents him from recognizing the extent to which the fabric of Jewish/Christian marriage has been culturally conditioned. While he never states the case this directly, the overall gist is that marriage has largely been the same from a Christian context, so we are called to exist in continuity with it.
Final Thoughts:
Grenz breaks the question down helpfully at the end, considering practical questions of church membership, ordination, etc. It’s a breath of fresh air to hear a traditionalist at this point in time unequivocally call for the church to accept gay members (even those in a monogamous committed relationship). He recognizes that, especially if we see these couples as “living in sin” (my phrase, not his), our first call is to minister to them. Considering the title, I wish he had spent more time on this concept.
Overall, this was a helpful read. Grenz approaches the question with grave and learnedness. If you can move past some of the baggage due to its publication date, it’s a fine representative of the traditionalist perspective.