Good Readers of Scripture

What makes a good reader of Scripture? David Runcorn relates his emotional journey towards becoming an “including evangelical” which highlights that the context in which his faith was re-awakened was one in which “homosexuality drew very particular condemnation” as “the sin of sins.” He observes that this means that “for many in this tradition the subject of same-sex relationships comes charged with powerful emotional responses.”

Revulsion, distress or anxiety are not measures of the rightness of any viewpoint. Still less are signs of biblical fidelity. They may just be telling me I am revolted, anxious and distressed about an issue. And that calls me to attend more carefully to my personal journey into a mature and secure awareness of my own sexual identity and desires.

There is a widespread assumption that anyone opposing same-sex marriage must do so from deeply felt or buried irrational revulsion. (Claiming that one does not recognise within oneself any revulsion, distress or anxiety in relation to LGBT people will then be seen as proof of repressed emotions.) It is not clear whether David Runcorn himself believes that revulsion lies necessarily at the heart of less permissive readings of Scripture but where it does, it can indicate a problem. Certainly, good readers will seek to be aware of their emotional responses and examine them with the help of others.

I must start with self-examination. How defensive or defended am I? How do I cope with criticism? What is my response to being found wrong or making a mistake? How graciously do I receive and take time over viewpoints that challenge my own in ways I cannot simply refute? I will need the help of truthful friends to know the answer to these questions.

This is sound advice as much as the need for reading within community which is particularly important for any who are tempted to put themselves at the centre of the process of reading Scripture, believing that they are in control of text and process. 

Such humility must include respect for facts – historical and linguistic facts among others. Richard Burridge called for the inclusion of biblical scholars in the facilitated conversations in the wake of the Pilling Report. We can surely agree that exegetes can “offer the Christian community some expertise and methods to enable them to grapple with the text themselves” and probably also that their role is not to provide “the correct answer” as if they were the final authority on reading Scripture. Nevertheless, trained exegetes will sometimes need to say that a particular reading is implausible because it rests on unsound linguistic or historical assumptions. With all respect for “ordinary readings,” not all readings are equal.

A good reader of Scripture is also a canonical reader. Given the widespread ignorance about Scripture even among the clergy this is a significant challenge. Again, both is true: people with little knowledge of the Bible can offer profound insights and should be heard, but readings are validated with reference to the whole of Scripture and those with a fuller grasp of the canon are therefore in a better position to judge the validity of readings than others. 

There is a creedal and catholic context to the interpretation of Scripture. Ian Paul points out what happens when this context is set aside, quoting Jeff Astley’s Grove booklet Taking Ordinary Theology Seriously. It is important to respect “ordinary readers” but we should not be naïve about the impact of sin on our readings. One need not believe that there is only one correct reading of any given passage to claim that some readings fails to be Christian and therefore cannot claim the same status within the church as other readings. There is an interrelationship between the individual and the community. The church’s reading of Scripture is not a simple aggregate of readings offered within a church context. Cf. the Wisdom of Richard Hooker.

There is a pastoral context to the interpretation of Scripture. David Runcorn notes

Pastoral and personal experience makes plain that the evangelical tradition has not been fruitful in communicating the love and life of Christ to LGBT people.

We should not respond to this simply by pointing out that a number of LGBT people will not feel loved and affirmed, whatever your welcome, as long as sex outside marriage is disapproved. This is true and is not a sufficient reason to adopt a more permissive stance to sexual activity outside marriage, if chastity is part of what it means to imitate Christ. But it is also true that (some) evangelicals have been quick to condemn, appealing to texts such as Ephesians 5:5.  Many LGBT people do not recognise themselves in such biblical condemnations of same-sex activity. David Runcorn urges

We need to take it seriously when one of the most familiar results of trying to apply biblical texts to contemporary same-sex relationships is that those being referred to simply do not recognise themselves there at all. This is not that. Indeed the very idea is actually offensive.  We need to listen to this.

We need to listen indeed – and ask questions of ourselves and the texts. The conclusion may be that the sexual greed condemned in Ephesians5:5 is not a good fit with a particular same-sex relationship.

In his contribution to the Pilling Report, David Runcorn refers to Romans 1 in this context. The picture of depravity there does not look anything like many people in same-sex relationships that he or I know. But nor does it look anything like any Hindu people I know. While it is possible that Paul had no knowledge of “faithful, covenanted, same sex relationships,” it is very unlikely that he had no experience of morally upright idol-worshippers. 

Most people today would not recognise themselves in Romans 1 but we have little reason to believe that many first-century pagans recognised themselves in this picture either. It is a composite worst-case scenario (so to speak). There are few, if any, people then or now to whom every single thing listed in Romans 1:21-32 would apply. We would mis-interpret the text if we concluded from it that because someone is a gossip, they must also be an idol-worshipper, or because they engage in lesbian sex, they must also be heartless. Listening to our pastoral context can help prevent such a misreading.

Humble and self-reflective readers listen to the voice of biblical scholars and theologians as well as to the experience of those affected by our readings without allowing either to shape our readings uncritically. Or, to put it the other way round, not all reflections on experience are accurate and reliable, neither are all contributions by biblical scholars, but it would be foolish to dismiss such contributions whenever they do not fit our preconceptions of what Scripture says.

The Wisdom of Richard Hooker

Further excerpts from Victor Lee Austin's Up With Authority: Why We Need Authority to Flourish as Human Beings (London: T & T Clark, 2010), chapter 5: (pages 106-110):

Hooker discerns that those who would dismiss the power of the church to decide on matters of order are putting their own reason in the place of the authority of the church; and thus they undermine that authority, with the result being the diminishment of the ability of the church to be a society. he does concede--indeed he emphasizes--that if the church is doctrinally in error (a position which for Hooker means the teaching of doctrines that are contrary to that which the Scripture lays out clearly or to that which can be clearly deduced from Scripture), then the individual must speak prophetically in opposition to authority. But in matters of ceremony, as in all matters on which Scripture does not speak clearly...the church has the necessary function of making authoritative determinations that are appropriate for [107] the time, and which might also be changed. [See Laws V.viii.2]

Still the epistemic question remains, How can it be determined, authoritatively, that a doctrine is clearly stated in Scripture or immediately deducible therefrom? How, that is, can we know that the church authority is truly handing on that which is contained in Scripture? [108] Hooker faces this question. While he emphatically ascribes Scripture a preeminent place in all knowledge of truth concerning doctrine, he points out that, not only does Scripture not say everything, it may not be a simple matter to determine what Scripture does in fact say. Thus authority is necessary, both to acquire the skills needed to read Scripture correctly, and also to perpetuate the knowledge of the truth that is held by tradition. [See Laws II.viii.5]

[109] Hooker calls upon his opponents to recognize what he takes to be an obvious fact, that "God hath endued [some people] with principal gifts to aspire unto knowledge by; whose exercises, labours, and divine studies he hath so blessed that the world for their great and rare skill that way hath them in admiration." He asks by what daring of intellect would we reject their judgment? "For mine own part," Hooker says, "I dare not so lightly esteem of the Church, and of the principal pillars therein" (Laws II.vii.4).

[110, citing Anthony Quinton, The Politics of Imperfection, 28] The Puritan opponents of Hooker were guilty of "a cognitive sin," namely, "intellectual pride." The Puritans thought the traditions of the church were of no weight; they would apply their own reason directly to the Scriptures and reach all conclusions in isolation from any need for epistemic authority."

The Same Sex Package Deal

Offering "some initial thoughts on the House of Bishops Pastoral Guidance on Same Sex Marriage," Thurstan Stigand observes:

Furthermore, what is said about the value of same sex relationships totally misses the point. The Church has never at any time had any problems with same sex relationships as such. Monks living in community with other men, friendships between people of the same sex and strong relationships between family members of the same sex have all been supported by the Church. What the Church has objected to, on the basis of clear biblical teaching, is same sex sexual activity, just as it has objected to all forms of sexual activity outside of a monogamous heterosexual marriage.

The failure to distinguish between same sex relationships generally and sexually active same-sex partnerships is surprisingly frequent in current discussions, as is the refusal to distinguish between same-sex attraction and sexual activity outside marriage. Thurstan Stigand suggests

What the archbishops should have done was make this point clear and then explained that it is the calling of faithful Christians to refrain from sexual activity outside marriage themselves and to encourage others to do the same, while at the same time supporting, prayerfully, emotionally and practically those who struggle in this area, particularly because of same sex attraction.

Maybe this is one of the ways in which people talk past each others. Is it possible to distinguish between different aspects of relationships, affirming love and commitment without endorsing the use of sex to cement non-marital relationships? Is it possible to affirm same-sex attraction as a different giftedness without allowing for this attraction to be expressed in sexual intimacy? Or does one of necessity entail the other? Are these package deals? Being gay is more than a desire for gay sex, as Ron Belgau explains. To lump being gay with lust is wrong but so is the presumption that true affirmation of LGBT people requires the acceptance of sexual activity outside marriage.

Reading the Pastoral Guidance on Same Sex Marriage

The House of Bishops Pastoral Guidance on Same Sex Marriage has drawn fierce criticism (see TA for a round-up of reactions). Here is an attempt at a more sympathetic reading of the guidance. 

The guidance consists of a letter and a statement. From the letter I highlight two things. First, while we are not agreed as a church on how to respond to the introduction of same sex marriage, the House of Bishop is agreed that “the Christian understanding and doctrine of marriage as a lifelong union between one man and one woman remains unchanged.”

Secondly, the Bishops re-affirm that same-sex partnerships can embody crucial virtues and allow that there are questions about “the meaning, interpretation and application of scripture to which we all seek to be faithful.” The Bishops do not spell out what brought about the need to re-consider our doctrine of sexuality.  Two factors come to mind. One is that the link between sexual intercourse and procreation has been severed in our society as a result of more advanced means for (a) preventing pregnancies and (b) procreating without sexual intercourse. Another is “the lived experience of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered people” which suggegts the use of sexual activity for strengthening the bonds of friendship and love without the sort of sexual greed condemned in the Scripture. The greedy immorality of which, e.g., Ephesians 5 speaks is found within the LGBT community as well as outside it but not all sexually active same-sex relationships fall in this category.

The appendix to the letter (the statement) first spells out the Church of England’s teaching on marriage and homophobia. It then sets out the effect of the Marriage (Same Sex Couples) Act 2013. The Bishops observe that

there will, for the first time, be a divergence between the general understanding and definition of marriage in England as enshrined in law and the doctrine of marriage held by the Church of England and reflected in the Canons and the Book of Common Prayer.

It could be argued that the increased frequency with which marriages end in divorce has also changed the general understanding of marriage in society but it has not yet changed the definition of marriage. It may well be that before long our society will see marriage as a long-term but temporary arrangement (different spouses for different phases of one’s life) but this is not yet the general understanding --people who enter into marriage do so in the hope that it will last for life--and certainly the church still insists that marriage is for life. Allowing for divorce does not as such redefine marriage if, as at present, divorce is understood to relate to something having gone wrong. 

Declaring sex/gender irrelevant for the purposes of marriage marks a major departure from the traditional understanding and definition of marriage. It is completely different from affirming that ethnicity is irrelevant. (Properly understood, sexual orientation is as irrelevant as ethnicity. What is relevant in the traditional understanding is that marriage couples a man and a woman, regardless of their sexual orientation or their ethnicity.)

The introduction of polygamy would not re-define marriage to the same extent. Even in polygamous societies each marriage covenant is between one man and one woman. The difference is the permission given, usually to men only, to enter into more than one such covenant, a permission which the catholic church never granted even in societies that did.

The Bishops then re-affirm that

the Church of England should not exclude from its fellowship those lay people of gay or lesbian orientation who, in conscience, were unable to accept that a life of sexual abstinence was required of them and who, instead, chose to enter into a faithful, committed sexually active relationship.

The reference to “a faithful, committed sexually active relationship” sets these relationships apart from, e.g., greed and adultery, even if these two rarely if ever lead to excommunication either. Same-sex marriage is not characterised as institutionalising sexual immorality but treated analogously to what the church’s response might have been if the government had liberalised the law to allow people to enter into more than one marriage covenant at the same time. 

If there was a serious commitment to sacramental discipline in the Church of England, this would be a most significant concession. Even with the Church of England being what it is Thurstan Stigand fears that it will make it very difficult to exercise pastoral care in accordance with the received understanding of sex and marriage. He may well be right. The omission of reference to the General Synod motion of November 1987 which affirms that “homosexual genital acts” fall short of the Christian ideal and are to be met “with a call to repentance and the exercise of compassion” could be significant. But it could be argued that the advice is consistent with general practice in the Church of England:

Those same sex couples who choose to marry should be welcomed into the life of the worshipping community and not be subjected to questioning about their lifestyle. Neither they nor any children they care for should be denied access to the sacraments.

In fact, the only group of people of which I am aware to be “subjected to questioning about their lifestyle” with the consequence of limited access to worshipping communities are paedophiles and this is done for the protection of our children more than as a means of pastoral care for the offenders. Are there many churches in which people are excluded from the sacraments in the hope of bringing them to turn away from a sinful lifestyle? No. Even so, turning a blind eye to same-sex marriage may be harder than turning a blind eye to domestic abuse, as the former is by its nature public. (It could be argued that we should be more concerned about greed and domestic abuse than sex outside marriage but to use sacramental discipline as a call to repentance for some sins but not others is difficult without a reasonably clear concept of “mortal sins” or their equivalent in Anglican theology.)

The pastoral guidance on “acts of worship following civil same sex weddings” reminds us that “same sex weddings in church will not be possible” and reaffirms that no services should be offered which would suggest that the church’s doctrine of marriage has changed. The new guidance is explicitly paralleled to the guidance following the introduction of civil partnerships. The difference is that being a party to a civil partnership is not in itself contrary to the doctrine of the Church of England, while being a party to a same-sex marriage is. The assumption is therefore

that any prayer will be accompanied by pastoral discussion of the church's teaching and their reasons for departing from it.

The reiteration of the phrase “services of blessing” is noteworthy. Chancellor Nigel Seed (and Revd Brian Lewis) argued that the 2005 pastoral statement, while prohibiting “services of blessing” allowed for services of prayer and dedication. The argument was not persuasive in the first place (see here) and will be harder to make now, as Nigel Seed based on the strict distinction between civil partnership and marriage. But it is clear that the House of Bishop did not want to give more detailed guidance.

The section on clergy and ordinands in particular has given rise to accusations of political naivety and the charge of hypocrisy and double standards. Let's assume for a moment the government had given us legal permission to enter into more than one marriage covenant at the same time. Surely we would not expect the House of Bishops to lead us in the direction of either excommunicating everyone who is party to more than one marriage or to ignore the number of marriages in which ordination candidates or members of the clergy are involved. Just because something is legally possible would not mean that clergy are free to avail themselves of the opportunity. 

It is defensible to restrict admission to the choir to people who are prepared to sing in tune and with the tempo indicated my the director of music without requiring everyone in the congregation who sings out of tune to shut up. The choir is to give a lead. Clergy are to model a pattern of life which agrees with the teaching of the church. This places a burden on clergy who are convinced that the church's teaching is wrong, even if

The Church of England will continue to place a high value on theological exploration and debate that is conducted with integrity. That is why Church of England clergy are able to argue for a change in its teaching on marriage and human sexuality, while at the same time being required to fashion their lives consistently with that teaching.

 This can lead to hypocrisy, as Michael Nazir-Ali fears, but it does not seem to me entirely impossible to uphold the church's teaching, to fashion one's life in accordance with it, and even to preach it, while questioning its validity. If the church prohibited the eating of halal meat, I could abstain from eating halal meat and encourage the congregation to do so, while arguing that it is an unnecessary restriction which should be lifted.

Cranmer is right to say that "it is not what Canon Law prohibits in theory but how the bishops handle disobedience in practice which will determine and define the Church's theology on same-sex marriage" and he is likely also right to anticipate no end to bad publicity (and worse) along this road. But it is possible that the House of Bishops went down this road not naively but because they could not go down any other road with integrity.

Authority in the Church

Further excerpts from Victor Lee Austin's Up With Authority: Why We Need Authority to Flourish as Human Beings (London: T & T Clark, 2010), chapter 5:

Authority in the church, then, appears as a sort of mysterious percolation. It requires hat there be an assembly, and therefore it requires that there be the communal identity and structure that makes the assembly possible. To be specific, and to take a catholic ecclesiology as normative, authority requires that there be a given structure of ordained ministry, received creeds, and continually-renewed tradition. Above all, authority in the church requires the Scriptures, [100] faithfully handed down and recited in the presence of all the faithful. But the odd thing we see in the church is that authority in the radical sense resides in none of those things: not in ordination, not in creed and tradition, not even in Scripture. Authority resides in the individual believer who, inspired by the Holy Spirit, proclaims faithfully her allegiance to the suffering Jesus, and thus to her Lord, and thus to the Triune Reality that is the source of all authority in heaven and earth. (pages 99-100)

Authority is actualized in the church when Christ is confessed; the Christ who is confessed is the one who has all authority. He bestows the Holy Spirit to bring human beings into communion with God and each other. (page 100)

So we cannot have an individual confession of Christ that does not arise out of a eucharistic community. And we cannot have eucharistic community without the oversight of a bishop. And we cannot have a bishop who is not in communion with other bishops, nor a eucharistic community that is not in communion with other eucharistic communities. And we cannot have communities and bishops without some means of making authoritative determinations about the [102] boundaries of Christian confession. But all these things--authoritative doctrinal determinations, authoritative conciliar structures, authoritative persons with oversight of particular communities--all exist to make possible the one truly authoritative act, which is the confession of Christ, which like all authority is ineluctably personal. (pages 101-102)

Authority in the church, in other words, highlights for us an essential dynamic in the working out of authority. The community is prior to the individual. No person could have faith or come to any knowledge of truth without submitting to the authority of others. And yet the community exists only in the individual to which it gives rise. The individual, as it were, contains the community, even as she enacts, authoritatively, the faithful response of the community, which must be in an individual, to the faithfulness of the one who is the source of all the church's authority, namely the Son to whom all authority has been given. (page 103)

[Drawing on Herbert McCabe, The Good Life [London: Continuum, 2005] and citing from pages 26-27} The error of contractarian thinking in political philosophy--that already existing individuals enter into contracts together to make societies--lies in the fact that before you could be an individual you must "be already in possession of what only society could provide--institutions such as language, contract, agreement, and so on." Humans are rational beings, which means preeminently that we can talk with each other and articulate alternatives to the way things are. "Rationality," McCabe says, "is a special way of being in a group." (page 103)

Up with Authority: The Church

Excerpts from Victor Lee Austin's Up With Authority: Why We Need Authority to Flourish as Human Beings (London: T & T Clark, 2010), chapter 5:

The examination of authority has been undertaken so far from a human point of view. To succeed at being a human, I have urged, is to be able to live together with others. Upon examination, it turns out that to live together with others in any sort of society requires that authority be there. And to live together with the skills of knowing and discerning the truth about the world, that also requires the existence of authority. Thus, to be human at all requires authority both social and epistemic. Furthermore, when we consider social authority as its most extensive--the authority that governs a society--we encounter political authority, a species that is social and epistemic but also has coercive force at its disposal.
     But none of this discussion has been carried on with theological blinders. Early on, the biblical understanding of authority confirmed our sense that it is a complex, structured affair; that to be a person "in authority" or to "have authority" is not to be pushed up to the top of a pyramid, but rather to be one who is also under authority. Then the relationship of authority and truth, which Michael Polanyi helped us see as a necessarily dialectical one in which authority points beyond itself to truth and, at the same time, the truth as apprehended raises a question upon authority, was itself a dialectical relationship expressed by Jesus when he said, as one with authority, that his mission was to bring knowledge of the truth, which knoweldge in turn would be liberating. Likewise in our study of authority and power, theology was present when we turned back to the roots of political theology, as [94] exposed by Oliver O'Donovan, where we could see the nature of political authority.
     This chapter does not form a simple progression with the three chapters that have preceded it, and that is because to move from social, epistemic, and political authority to ecclesial authority is not to move to yet another field or dimension of human existence. For the church is not rightly understood as another society, alongside, say, the symphony and the academy, existing in conjunction with them in a common political society. To make the church out to be another mini-society or voluntary association is to reject its claims of bearing revealed and transcendent truth. Nor is the church "over" society, as a super-City within which not only the symphony and the university but also every political society also exists. To make the church out to be the universal political society is to deny in some fundamental way both the autonomous and natural importance of human political societies and, also, the provisionality of the church itself as a witness to a kingdom that is in important ways still to come.
     Neither an association nor an epistemic allegiance, nor yet an overarching "umbrella" society, the church is a strange thing that fails to fit into any given categorical scheme. Fortunately, we need not achieve the impossibility of mastering an unmasterable topic in order to learn from authority as we can see it in action in the church. Nor must the church as we experience it be healthy, faithful, and in general trouble-free. Even from an afflicted church we may learn something new about authority, and perhaps what we learn overall will be of some service to people in churches today who struggle with problems of authority. (pages 93-94)

The church is a congregation or a synagogue, words which speak etymologically of a "calling" or "bringing together." Those called together as a church have come in some way to recognize God's authority. They are a congregation dedicated to the Truth (and here the capital letter impresses itself upon us). The church is not a political society and will never be one, but its mission is to point to one peculiar and ultimate political society: a kingdom of citizens who freely obey and follow their King, who live in a city of which their Lord is the light. As a society gathered for the sake of knowing the Truth and witnessing to God's kingdom, what can the church teach us about the relationship of God and authority?" (page 95)

[The Aria is Bach's Saint Matthew Passion is discussed as an illustration of the relation between individual and community.]

What is happening when a soloist rises to sing an aria? The soloist is authorized by Bach to stand and sing; this is the plain truth of the text. In the performance, the soloist is authorized also by the conductor. But in that which the performance is about, the soloist speaks of her faith with authority. It is my view that Bach here gives us a model of the true functioning of authority in the church. The individual could not sing, as it were, authoritatively, were she not standing in the midst of the assembly of the faithful. The assembly of the faithful is the locus where we may find the exercise of authority. Yet the faithful, as a whole, only prepare the ground for the authority of the faithful individual who sings. The authority in the church as a whole is only potential and implicit; it is exercised--it comes alive--when the one stands to profess. Note too that what is said authoritatively is not the simple recitation of a scriptural text. Rather, it involves a leap that makes the sacred story contemporary to the singer. Often, what is said authoritatively entails an act of self-oblation. Again, the aria is sung with authority only because it is sung in the context of the sacred [99] words. Thus, as there is no authority apart from the assembly, so is there no authority apart from Scripture. But Scripture alone, even when it is spoken in the midst of the assembly, is not where authority is being actualized. Nonetheless, authority is responsive. The soloist responds neither to Bach nor to the conductor; she speaks in the midst of the assembly but not to the assembly; she speaks in the context of the church's recitation of the salvific narrative but her words are not in the narrative. her authority resides in the one in whom she is placing her faith.

Not By Texts Alone: Apartheid

In an essay titled And how do I know when I am wrong? Evangelical faith and the Bible, David Runcorn explains why the analogy with apartheid impressed itself on him in the current discussion of sexuality. 

The disturbing fact about apartheid is that it was a doctrine that claimed biblical warrant. Within a predominantly Christian country it was rigorously applied to a whole society and backed up by highly qualified university faculties of theology, hermeneutical studies and ethics. These were churches faithful [in] prayer, self-examination, breaking of bread and the reading of scripture.

Referencing Richard Burridge's Imitating Jesus - An Inclusive Approach to New Testament Ethics, David Runcorn queries how these Reformed churches, after expressing deep penitence for apartheid, could return to confident "reaffirmations of the centrality of scripture and a renewed resolve to obey and proclaim it more faithfully." How could they ever again be confident about what Scripture says? "They thought they were ‘in line’ with the word of God before, didn’t they?"

As a Reformed Catholic, my first response is that the experience of the Afrikaaners Dutch Reformed Church offers a warning against novel readings which serve to justify a particular lifestyle. The danger of Scripture simply becoming "a mirror reflecting a community's self-deceptions back to itself" is greater when a community fails to listen to how the church as a whole reads Scripture. Minority readings can be correct but the burden of proof is on those who read against tradition. The Dutch Reformed Church can have greater confidence today because it has returned to a reading of Scripture which can command a wide consensus. 

Richard Burridge's emphasis is somewhat different although not necessarily contradictory to this. He urges that we need an inclusive, diverse, interpretive community in which opposing viewpoints are heard so that distortions are avoided by those in power or control. I do not disagree with this, even if instinctively I may grant a greater role to experts. Our various experiences raise new questions and challenges which must not be suppressed but we still have a responsibility to distinguish between more and less plausible readings. A good knowledge of alternative readings is certainly a great help in "becoming aware of the presuppositions, prejudices and assumptions that limit my responses to what I read."


Unanswered remains the question whether racist readings in favour of slavery and apartheid can be shown to be invalid on the grounds of standard exegesis or whether we have to grant racists that their exegesis in and of itself was as sound as that of their opponents. I must withhold judgement, as I am insufficiently familiar with the arguments. Judging by reviews rather than first-hand knowledge of his work, Richard Burridge seems to be impressed by the quality of racist exegesis. 

Burridge surfaces four “biblical” ways the subject of apartheid was approached (and he offers specific examples of how the Bible was used): 1) Obeying rules and prescriptive commands, 2) Looking for principles and universal values, 3) Following examples and paradigms, and 4) Embracing an overall symbolic worldview. Those who believed apartheid to be “biblical” used the Bible in these ways to offer support for their views. The irony is this: those who opposed apartheid used the Bible in these identical ways to show that apartheid was very “unbiblical.” Both sides claimed to be “biblical,” yet had opposite views of apartheid! This is reminiscent of the ante-bellum slavery debates in the United States which led eventually to the Civil War. (John Frye, Imitating Jesus: Part 7 - Apartheid is (Un)'Biblical')

Apparently this is not only a matter of surface similarities in the structure of arguments, the racist exegesis is of sufficient quality to call into question any appeal to Scripture along similar lines. Richard Burridge seems to be unable to judge many racist readings as invalid without appeal specifically to the Gospel. In other words, it seems that sound exgesis of the relevant texts from Genesis or Revelation will not be sufficient to show the wrongness of racist readings. David Runcorn in a similar way seems to suggest that the harm done by these readings is the only way to show that the readings are wrong - exegesis of the texts alone won't help us.

In sum, while probably most "conserving evangelicals" (David Runcorn's term) would assume that the difference between racist and anti-apartheid readings is (also) the difference between good and bad exegesis, the challenge put out by David Runcorn and, it seems, Richard Burridge is that the standards of sound exegesis are insufficient to discriminate against racist readings. 

There are of course those who believe that the Bible is “patriarchal, racist, imperialist, and homophobic” and that we must read against the grain of the text. But by and large, it seems to me, the only people persuaded by the pro-apartheid readings of the Dutch Reformed Afrikaaners Church were those in favour of apartheid. Or did the anti-apartheid movement include a significant proportion of people who believed that the Bible is pro-apartheid (and wrong to be so)?

The final quotation is from Cathy Thompson, “Scripture as Normative Source in Theology,” in The Once and Future Scriptures: Exploring the Role of the Bible in the Contemporary Church, ed. Gregory C. Jenks (Salem, OR: Polerbridge, 2013), 33.