April DeConick, Isla Carroll and Percy E. Turner Professor of Biblical Studies at Rice University, has joined the blogging world this past week with her Forbidden Gospels Blog. I’ve noticed because she’s been welcomed by bloggers at PaleoJudaica, The Busybody, Earliest Christian History, Hypotyposeis, Deinde (with a brief welcome and a longer critique of her post), and NT Gateway. Not that I’m worthy of being called a “host” of any kind in biblioblogging, but I would like to welcome her as well. I’d also like to take a few moments to reflect on her approach to Christian origins. In her first post, “Beyond the New Testament Canon,” She writes about herself:

As a scholar of religious history, I do not have to justify my conclusions to believers nor do I judge the texts I study in terms of our modern perspectives of “orthodoxy” or “heresy.” My rules of engagement are simply those of the modern intellectual community in search of knowledge. I consider myself a “humanist,” relying on ways of knowing developed since the Enlightenment in the discipline of the humanities and liberal arts. Given these premises, I take very seriously the study of a variety of early Christian documents, and do not operate within the boundaries of the New Testament canon.

Now, as a confessional Christian who is interested in serving God through an academic vocation in biblical studies, I probably should feel threatened or offended by scholars like DeConick. Instead, I actually feel excited and genuinely interested. Lately, I’ve been really getting into discussions about “orthodoxy” and “heresy” in the early church, particularly from “secular” perspectives and especially in Bart Ehrman‘s writings. As far as I can tell from my introspective reflection on the matter, I can see two reasons for my interest:

(1) I have a varied religious past myself. I was born into a Catholic family that was losing (or had already lost) interest in the Roman Catholic Church by the time I was born. My father has a Masters of Religious Education and was working in the church, but soon gave it up to go for a MBA and a career in business. I was baptized as an infant, but never really taken to Mass during my childhood. Then, as a freshman in high school, my father started taking me to a Unitarian Universalist church. I was enjoying that experience, while at the same time going to a youth group at my friend’s fundamentalist church. I lacked the awareness that this would be considered religiously odd. Later, I converted to Christianity and attended the fundamentalist church for two years. I was gung ho and tried to convert my whole high school, which did not make me popular. Then I went to Messiah College, hoping to deepen my knowledge about the Bible as a Bible major. Instead, my inerrantist reading of Scripture was given the ol’ drop kick out the window in my first class in biblical studies. After intellectually and spiritually wandering around different manifestations of Christianity in college, I was most drawn to Messiah’s founding Brethren in Christ denomination, and particularly its Anabaptist tradition, mixed with spiritually revivalistic elements. And that brings me to my second reason for interest in these secular approaches advocating noncanonical works:

(2) I am an Anabaptist, a tradition which itself was considered heresy (and still is by many) and whose participants even died for such accusations. Being a part of a tradition that followed its biblical and spiritual convictions, even in the midst of such dire circumstances, heightens my interest in the debates about “orthodoxy” and “heresy” in the early church.

I see pros and cons in most of the various movements within Christian origins. I understand that the stakes were high in the early church. I generally agree with what the established “catholic” church found to be “false doctrine.” But I can also understand the motivations of those who were called “heretics.” I can see why Marcion would feel conflicted about what seemed like a violent God in the Old Testament and draw upon the concept of the Demiurge to explain away such violence from his faith. I don’t agree with him, but if I understand the situation correctly, I can see where he’s coming from there. I particularly resonate with Montanism’s challenge to the established church and its claim to an authoritative, apostolic succession of bishops. I can also appreciate Montanism’s desire to keep the gifts of the Holy Spirit alive in a profound way, alongside a strong lived out morality. I feel uncomfortable with some of the things that they prophesied, but I can understand the instinct. Frankly, I have a hard time seeing the good in Gnosticism, which seems to me to be exclusivist in its complicated mysteriousness and irresponsible in its denial of the goodness of creation. But I can understand getting caught up in the philosophies of the day and combining together elements of different viewpoints to make sense of spiritual experience or philosophical reflection.

I do, of course, have troubles accepting everything that the established “orthodox” or “catholic” church did at the time as well. For me, the movement to hierarchy and the separation between the laity and clergy is problematic. I also have a hard time with the strong sacramental theology that emerged, particularly with the eucharist. It doesn’t make any sense to me that the “elements” would actually become the real blood and body of Jesus, aside from being kind of gross (one can understand Roman confusion and disgust with the practice). Nevertheless, I do see that this was a profound affirmation of Christ’s true humanity and indeed even the goodness of matter itself in response to Gnostic and Docetic views. It does seem to me that the “rule of faith” that can be seen in various forms in Ignatius, Justin, Irenaeus, Tertullian, Hypolytus, etc. is a necessary attempt to keep in line with the teachings of Jesus and the early apostles’ understanding of Jesus. I do agree that Gnosticism departed from those teachings significantly, even while it mixed some of it in. I understand that the early church felt the need to protect the boundaries of early understandings of Christ through early creedal formulations and a need for ordination, even if I feel uncomfortable with many of the things said by the authors of the time period and the legacy of their decisions.

All of this is to say that I am excited by more “secular” (though I won’t say “unbiased”) attempts to wrestle with the orthodox vs. heresy issue from a fresh perspective. So I thought that Danny’s critique of April DeConick’s first post was helpful, and I don’t necessarily agree with DeConick, but I greatly appreciate hearing things from another perspective. I have enjoyed every post
she’s put up so far. I would also like to point to James Tabor‘s Jesus Dynasty Blog and James Crossley‘s Earliest Christian History in the same vein, both of which I also greatly enjoy reading. Now we just have to get Ehrman into the blogging world!

Additional Note: I just realized that I am not aware of any other women in the world of academic blogs on biblical studies and Christian origins. In addition to her perspective as a “secular” scholar of early Christianity, I say hurrah for a woman’s voice in the discussion!!