Contents
1.
Introduction
2.
Modern
Scholarship
3.
Presbyters
and Bishops
4.
The
Headship Question
5.
Unity
and Acceptability
6.
Conclusion
7.
Bibliography
Introduction
Pawn on a chess
board'It is evident unto all men diligently reading Holy Scripture and ancient
authors, that from the apostles' time there have been these orders of ministers
in Christ's church; bishops, priests and deacons.' Thus begins the preface to
the ordinal of the Church of England, which still remains one of its
fundamental formularies and thus, by extension, one of the defining documents
of the Anglican Communion.
When Archbishop
Thomas Cranmer wrote those words in 1549, he was not being particularly
controversial. It is true that some protestant churches in Germany and
Switzerland had abandoned the historic episcopate, but this had as much to do
with the peculiar nature of bishops in the Holy Roman Empire as it did with
underlying ecclesiological principles. In Geneva for example, the city had been
governed by its bishop, and no reformation of any kind would have been possible
there unless and until he were removed. Feelings against episcopacy were
largely political, and only later did they acquire theological justification.
John Calvin was not against episcopacy in England, and is said to have
recommended it as the best form of church government for Poland.[1]
Even John Knox
(contrary to what many people think) did not do away with episcopacy
completely. Scottish bishops continued to exist, albeit in a restricted role,
until 1638 when episcopacy was abolished in Scotland - again, largely for
political reasons. Presbyterian arguments against it were grounded in personal
experience of the abuses to which that form of church government had been put,
although by then there were many who argued that the Anglican type of bishop
was not to be found in the New Testament church. Nobody doubted that bishops
had existed in the second century, and some were prepared to concede that their
office might be of apostolic origin, but whatever might be said about that, the
issue in dispute was whether bishops were prescribed by the New Testament as a
necessary ingredient of church government or not.
On that point,
Calvin and those who followed him argued that episcopacy was not an
indispensable part (the so-called esse) of the church, and it should be noted
that the language of the preface to Cranmer's Ordinal is worded in such a way
that it can be regarded as supporting that view. Cranmer's defence of the
threefold order of ministry is rooted in history rather than in theology. His
appeal to Scripture focuses not on any form of 'apostolic succession' but on
the high moral and spiritual standards which are required of ministers at all
levels. The Biblical injunctions outline the character required of all ordained
people, whatever special function they might be expected to perform,
recognizing that the latter are directly dependent on the former.[2]
As far as the
three distinct orders were concerned, Cranmer clearly believed that they could
be found in Scripture, and he therefore saw no reason to modify the status quo
in the Church of England, but he made no effort to support this belief from the
Biblical text. Later generations of Anglicans, beginning with Richard Bancroft
(d. 1610), found themselves embroiled in controversy with presbyterians and
independents, and out of that they developed a 'divine right' theory of
episcopacy, according to which the Anglican bishop as he existed in the late
sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries was prescribed by Scripture itself.
That view came to be characteristic of 'episcopalianism' (which, perhaps not
surprisingly, was defended mainly by bishops.) and later became a staple of
High Church and Anglo-Catholic ecclesiology, but it has remained a point of
contention within the Anglican Communion, many of whose members were open to
formal relationships and even reunion with non-episcopal churches, on the basis
of the mutual recognition of ministries.
Modern
Scholarship
Cranmer's
somewhat cautious appeal to history has allowed his approach to survive more
recent critical study, which has generally rejected the Roman Catholic (and to
some extent also Orthodox and Anglo-Catholic) theory of a direct apostolic
succession of bishops. It is not without interest that the pioneer of this
historical revisionism is generally recognised to have been an Anglican bishop,
J. B. Lightfoot. His commentary on Philippians contains a lengthy dissertation
entitled 'The Christian ministry' in which he developed his belief that there
was no essential difference in the New Testament church between the episcopate
and the presbyterate.»1[3]
So well-argued
was Lightfoot's position that it has now become the standard view, embraced by
almost all scholarly opinion, even in the Roman Catholic church. It is perhaps
worth pointing out that Lightfoot did not regard the terms episkopos and
presbyteros as entirely synonymous. He believed that the second of these had
been taken over from the synagogue and was used especially to refer to the
leaders of Jewish-Christian congregations, whereas episkopos was an equivalent
term used mainly (if not exclusively) among the Gentiles. According to
Lightfoot, the difference was one of flavour and reference, rather than one of
substance, i.e., what we would now call an early example of 'cultural
contextualisation'.
Lightfoot's
analysis has been developed in a number of different ways, but the
Jewish-Gentile distinction has usually been regarded as fundamental. The nature
of this distinction was originally defined by Friedrich Christian Baur and the
so-called 'Tübingen school' of the early nineteenth century. The basic premise
of this school was that the earliest churches were communities of the free
Spirit, which only later were disciplined into a rigid order which we call
'catholicism'. This evolution was supposed to have taken place over time and
was not complete until the third century, although signs of it can be traced to
the New Testament, notably in Luke-Acts and in the Pastoral Epistles. The
result of this theory was that these books were regarded as later in date than
either Matthew-Mark or the 'genuine' Pauline epistles, where the more developed
church structure is apparently absent.
The Tübingen
theory has undergone a number of significant modifications in the past 150
years, of which the most noticeable has been the growing belief that Jewish
Christianity was legalistic (and therefore more like 'early catholicism'),
whereas the first gentile churches were the domain of the free Spirit,
supposedly so beloved of the 'genuine' Apostle Paul. In those churches there
was apparently neither dogma nor hierarchy, and women enjoyed substantial
equality with men. But as primitive freedom gave way to 'early catholicism',
dogma, hierarchy and the 'oppression' of women assumed their historically
central places in church life.
That this
reconstruction of the early church is largely a fantasy was demonstrated by
English scholars like H. E. W. Turner (The pattern of Christian truth) and J.
N. D. Kelly (Early Christian creeds; Early Christian doctrines). It was not
accepted by Lightfoot, although his observations were enlisted in its support,
and there has been a steady stream of English-speaking Biblical scholars (Sir
William Ramsay, J. N. D. Kelly, J. A. T. Robinson, Donald Guthrie, F. F. Bruce,
Ward Gasque) who have shown that the Tübingen claims, particularly with respect
to the 'genuine' Paul, the authorship of the Pastoral Epistles, and the
historical accuracy of Luke-Acts, cannot stand up to serious examination.
Nevertheless, the ideological appeal of the Tübingen approach has been such
that this tradition of conservative scholarship has been ignored by the
mainstream to such an extent that many writers now assume without argument that
there are only seven or eight Pauline epistles which can be regarded as
authentic - and one of the evidences for this 'authenticity' is that there is
virtually no trace of dogma or hierarchy in them.
Another twist to
the original Tübingen position has been the increasing tendency to give weight
to gnostic and other non-canonical sources which were traditionally regarded as
'heretical'. In fact, the very concept of 'heresy' has come to be understood as
a late development (see Walter Bauer, Orthodoxy and heresy in earliest
Christianity), which has opened the door towards accepting the evidence of
gnostic and other extra-Biblical texts as valid authorities for the teaching
and practice of the first Christians. This is of particular importance for the
discussion about the role of women in the church, since much of the evidence
cited for this comes from sources such as these. Once again, the validity of
this approach has been systematically refuted by some of the scholars named
above (notably by Turner and Kelly), but they have been largely ignored by the
dominant consensus.[4]
Presbyters
and Bishops
It is important
that we understand this, since otherwise the modern discussion makes no sense.
To return to Lightfoot's analysis of the similarities and distinctions between
presbyteroi and episkopoi, it has sometimes been argued that the presbyteroi
represented the legalistic inheritance of Jewish Christianity whereas the
episkopoi moved in the 'Pauline' freedom of the Spirit. Others have claimed
that the episkopoi were originally house church leaders who developed into more
authoritative figures, and eventually merged with the presbyteroi, as part of
the 'catholic' takeover. Recently, Alastair Campbell, a Baptist minister, has
claimed that the Pastoral Epistles were written shortly after the Apostle
Paul's death to justify the newly emerging office of the monarchical episkopos,
who claimed authority over the many presbyteroi in any given local church.»2
Campbell's
argument is based mainly on the fact that the word presbyteroi appears in the
plural, whereas the word episkopos is always singular, even though the contexts
in which the terms are used would suggest that episkopos is just a generic term
meaning 'the typical, or standard presbyteros' and not the designation of a
distinct (let alone a newly-emerging) ecclesiastical order (a possibility which
Campbell recognises but rejects).
The difficulty
with all these theories is that words like episkopos, presbyteros and even
apostolos (not to mention diakonos) have a range of meanings in the New
Testament whose general drift is clear enough but which cannot be tied down to
formal designations of particular offices. If we are to have any hope of
understanding ministry in the New Testament churches, what we have to look for
is pattern of leadership, expressed in but not exclusively defined by the
individual words used to describe it.»3 What we need to ask is whether there is
any sign that the early church congregations had individual leaders who
presided over a college of ministers, whatever name(s) may have been used to
describe them?[5]
The question is
complicated because we also have to take account of the apostles, who acted in
concert with each other, but who also exercised individual leadership over the
congregations which they founded or which had been entrusted to them. In the
case of Rome, it appears that Paul was able to exercise the function of
oversight even though he had neither founded the church nor ever visited it.
But the ministry of the apostles was unique and did not extend to a second
generation. During their lifetimes, and in their writings, we must expect to
find some 'underdevelopment' in the organisation of local churches, since
leadership in them was of secondary importance as long as there were roving
authorities who could be appealed to in cases of dispute. This is particularly obvious
in the case of the Pauline churches, but similar things can also be found
elsewhere, as for example, in the seven churches of Asia mentioned in
Revelation 2-3.
What really
matters is why things developed they way they did after the apostles died. Granted
that a monarchical episcopate was well-established (at least in the core
churches of the eastern Mediterranean) by the time of Ignatius of Antioch (c.
107-117), was this something which the apostles themselves had desired and
initiated, or did it come about without their express approval and possibly
even against what they would have wished?
It is generally
agreed that the Pastoral Epistles present Timothy and Titus in a role analogous
to that of the later bishop, although there are certain differences and there
is some doubt as to whether their assignments were temporary or permanent.»4
Did Titus merely visit Crete to put things in order, or did he go there to
reside permanently as the overseer of the Cretan congregations? And of course,
we cannot escape the question of the authorship of the Pastorals, since the
denial of their claims to Pauline origin entails a denial of the apostolic
origin of Timothy's and Titus' episcopal ministry.[6]
It has to be
said that this is often a circular argument, since much of the impetus for
assigning the Pastorals to a post-apostolic date comes from the perception that
the ecclesiology which they describe is substantially more 'developed' in the
direction of 'early catholicism' than that which is found in the so-called
'authentic' Pauline epistles. There is every reason to agree with those who say
that the Pastorals represent a kind of halfway house between the first
apostolic missions and the more settled episcopacy of later times, but if the
pastorals were written by Paul, this transition was initiated by the apostles
themselves as a means of preserving something of their ministry in the later
church.
There can then
be no grounds for denying its authenticity, and consequently its authoritative
place in the life of the church ever since. Part of the argument against this,
of course, is that Paul made considerable use of women in his mission, and
therefore they must have occupied leadership roles in the church. As things
tightened up and became more structured ('after Paul's death' goes without
saying) the role of women declined accordingly and soon vanished altogether.»5
Modern defenders of a 'gender-inclusive' ministry therefore have a vested
interest in seeing the Pastoral Epistles as a deviation from the apostolic
norm, even if that deviation was generally acquiesced in at the time.»6
This is a very
tempting line of thought for those who advocate the unrestricted admission of
women to all three orders of the modern ministry, but it is based on
assumptions which cannot be substantiated from the texts. It is true that women
feature prominently in the Pauline epistles, but nowhere is there any evidence
that they were episkopoi. No woman is ever called either an episkopos or a
presbyteros (only a diakonos), and the one instance where a woman may have been
called an apostolos, apart from being unclear, merely raises the question of
what forms of ministry the word apostolos might have included in that
context.»7
Probably the
true answer is that women in the early church enjoyed the same freedoms and
opportunities as they did in contemporary Graeco-Roman (and especially in
Jewish) society. As long as the church was based in private homes, it is not
surprising to find women mentioned so prominently, since the home was their
domain. But none of that means that women were given positions of authority
alongside men - and certainly not above them. Such a move would have been
revolutionary in the ancient world, and if it had occurred in the first
Christian congregations, there would surely have been some mention of it.»8 On the
other side, it is quite clear that women were not included in the presbyterate
known to Timothy and Titus, where the qualifications of an elder refer
exclusively to males.
Evidence from
the immediate post-apostolic period is relatively scarce, but what there is
only supports the view that the situation recorded in the Pastoral Epistles
must have been in existence well within the lifetime of at least some of the
apostles. Clement of Rome, for example, wrote to the Corinthian church about AD
96 (when the Apostle John may still have been living):[7]
Preaching
through countries and cities, the apostles appointed the first-fruits of their
labours to be bishops and deacons of those who would believe afterwards.
However, they first tested them by the Spirit.»9 If Clement had been wrong
about this, there would certainly have been many people in Corinth who could
have put him right, and he would have known that. He then goes on to add: Our
apostles also knew, through our Lord Jesus Christ, that there would be strife
on account of the office of oversight. For this reason therefore, inasmuch as
they had obtained a perfect foreknowledge of this, they appointed those already
mentioned. Afterwards, they gave instructions that when those men should fall
asleep, other approved men should succeed them in their ministry. We are of
opinion therefore, that those appointed by the apostles, or afterwards by other
eminent men, with the consent of the whole church, and who have blamelessly
served the flock of Christ in a humble, peaceable and disinterested spirit, and
have for a long time possessed the good opinion of all, cannot be justly
dismissed from the ministry.»10
This passage is
extremely revealing, because it shows us how the bishops were appointed. Names
would be put forward by the existing elders of the church, and then the
approval of the whole congregation would be sought. Once that was obtained, the
newly appointed bishop would have tenure of office as long as his life matched
the exacting criteria set out in Titus 2. Nevertheless, it is also clear that
not everyone in the church was prepared to accept this arrangement, and that
there was pressure from at least parts of the church to dismiss bishops -
though for what reason(s) we are not told. Perhaps it was simply a matter of
factionalism, or party politics, in which different groups felt that it was
'time for a change' and that everyone should have a turn.»11 There is certainly
no suggestion either of immoral conduct or of heresy - quite the reverse.
Writing somewhat
later, Ignatius of Antioch (c. 107-117) is the first person to make the now
classical distinction between a (singular) bishop and plural presbyters, whom
he compares to Christ and his apostles.»12 The bishop is the president of the
governing council of the church, but the presbyters share in his ministry and
must be obeyed equally with him.»13 It is however quite clear what the limits
of the bishop's 'authority' are. He cannot command the church in the way that
the apostles could (and did)»14 and it is apparent that he acts primarily as a
focus of unity for the church as a whole, which is symbolised above all in the
eucharist at which he ought normally to preside.»15
Ignatius accepts
that the bishop may delegate his presidential functions to another, and we can
only assume that this must have been to one or more of the presbyters. In the
modern church such 'delegation' has long been the norm, so much so that it has
largely been forgotten that presbyterial presidency at the eucharist is a
delegated privilege, not a right which has been conferred by ordination.»16
One reason for
this confusion of course, is that the Ignatian bishop was much more like a
modern incumbent than like a modern bishop, because in most cases he would not
have had a flock larger than that of the average parish today. Everything
Ignatius says presumes a congregational framework rather than a diocesan one,
in which bishop and presbyters exercised a team ministry to which every member
of the church would have been directly connected. It can therefore be argued
that a presbyter today functions more or less as an Ignatian bishop did in the
second century, and so if women can be admitted to the modern presbyterate
there is little reason to deny them the episcopate, even if it is a distinct
order in the church.[8]
The
Headship Question
But however true
this may be, it is still the case that the Ignatian bishop was expected to act
as the focus of unity for the church in a way which was (and is) not expected
of the presbyters. The scale on which this function operates has certainly
changed over the centuries, but the underlying principle has not. The modern
Anglican bishop still acts as a diocesan co-ordinator, without whose licence no
presbyter or deacon can legitimately function. He is the 'head' of the diocese,
to whom people turn for authoritative guidance on a wide range of policies and
initiatives. To admit that not all bishops have fulfilled their function(s) in
the most edifying manner is not to deny that this is a real and valuable
ministry, and one which has helped to permit the wide range of diversity which
the Church of England exhibits at parish level. For better or for worse, the
Anglican Communion has shown an ability to keep mutually antagonistic groups
under one organisational umbrella to a degree unknown elsewhere, and there can
be no doubt that the Anglican form of episcopacy has contributed to this to a
significant degree, even if it is not the only factor involved.
'Headship' is a
controversial subject and in recent years the use of the Greek word kephale in
1 Corinthians 11 has been the object of much scholarly debate. The most recent
and in some ways thorough treatment of the question is by Professor A. C.
Thiselton, in his commentary on 1 Corinthians.»17 Professor Thiselton surveys
the evidence and demonstrates that the word kephale (basically 'head') has a
wide range of metaphorical meanings according to context, but that in the end
all of these revolve around the notion of 'pre-eminence'.
There
is an order in the spiritual universe which can be expressed in terms of
'headship' as follows: God the Father is the head of the Son, the Son is the
head of man, and man is the head of woman. This order was symbolised in public
worship by the fact that women covered their heads and men did not. The
appropriateness of this symbolism can be questioned in a culture where
hat-wearing is uncommon, but the underlying principle cannot. The order which
it represents belongs to creation, though Professor Thiselton is anxious to
point out that it does not mean that women are inferior to men.
If we look
carefully at the 'hierarchy' presented by the Apostle Paul, we realise that
ontologically speaking, Father and Son are equal in the Godhead, whereas male
and female are equal in their common humanity. It is between the divine and the
human that the great gulf of inequality is fixed, and so whatever the hierarchy
of headship is supposed to stand for, it cannot be that. When we stop to think
about it, the surprising thing about Paul's statement is that human beings are
classed in the same structure of order as members of the Godhead, and this
provides an important clue as to the meaning of the passage. Men and women are
linked to God the Father and the Son because as human beings they are created
in the image and likeness of God.
Headship
therefore refers to a pattern of relationships within a divine order which
transcends the distinction between created and uncreated being. The Son is not
subordinate to the Father because the Father is somehow his 'source' (Professor
Thiselton points out, in line with most serious scholarship, that the word
kephale does not mean 'source'), but because that is his place in a divine
order in which the individuality of each of the persons is affirmed and
protected. Father and Son need each other in order to be themselves, and this
mutuality is worked out in the submissiveness of the Son just as much as it is
in the 'authority' of the Father who raises him from the dead and thereby
validates his sacrifice. Similarly, male and female need each other in order to
be themselves, and their interrelationship is also expressed in terms of
submission and sacrifice. The link between the divine and the human is provided
by the incarnate Son, who is at once both priest and victim, judge and
sacrifice. The whole pattern of our salvation is worked out in this complex
structure of 'order', which the church is called to proclaim and reflect in its
public worship.
It is this
aspect of the matter which makes it inappropriate for a woman to occupy a
position in the church which by definition makes men subordinate to her.
Neither her ability to do the job, nor her fundamental equality with men is at
stake here. If we consider the Godhead for a moment, there is nothing in the
person of the Father which makes it impossible for him to become incarnate and
to offer his life for the salvation of sinners; in terms of ability and
equality, he was just as capable of doing this as was the Son. That however, is
not the point. The Son's sacrifice is not the result of greater (or lesser)
ability, but comes from the nature of their mutual relationship.[9]
Likewise, the
'headship' of the male with respect tot eh female is not a question of
superiority or inferiority, but of relationship - and of relationship moreover
in the image and likeness of God. For many Christians this raises acute
difficulties with the ordination of women to the presbyterate, which seems to
them to be incompatible with Biblical teaching on headship relationships. This
difficulty can perhaps be overcome with regard to the presbyterate, but only if
the presbyterate is dissociated from the notion of headship. If the head of the
presbyter is the bishop, it can always be argued that female presbyters can be
accepted because they are not 'heads' - they are subordinate to the headship of
the bishop.»18
Unity
and Acceptability
Whether the
current pattern of Anglican episcopacy is theologically justifiable is a
complex question, which perhaps ought to be addressed more seriously than it
has been before any changes to it are adopted. But as long as we have the
system which we have inherited, it is obvious that the bishop functions within
it as a focus of unity for the 'local' (i.e. diocesan) church, of which he is
the recognised head.
One aspect of
this form of leadership, often neglected by modern commentators, is that the
Clementine episkopos had to be acceptable to the entire congregation. Clement
did not mean by this that absolutely everyone had to be content; he certainly
had no intention of pandering to cranks or troublemakers, whom he clearly
censured. But the elders of the church were expected to choose bishops who
could command the general assent and respect of the congregation. In a church
which permits two 'integrities' over the matter of women's ordination, it must
be obvious that in applying this principle today, bishops must command the
respect of both if the unity of the church is to be preserved.
Those who favour
women bishops are not opposed to having men, but those who do not will not
accept women, which means that if the two integrities are to be held together,
only men can be appointed as bishops. To appoint a woman would be to split the
church by denying the legitimacy of one of the integrities. The principle that
this should be avoided has a precedent in the New Testament, in the
circumcision of Timothy (Acts 16:3). This was imposed on him by the Apostle
Paul, in spite of the latter's well-known and frequently articulated opposition
to circumcision as a theological necessity, in order to make Timothy more
acceptable to Jewish Christians, who were the other integrity of their day.
Timothy had to be acceptable without question by everyone, which was enough to
mandate a practice which the apostle would never have justified on theological
grounds.
It is perhaps
worth remembering here that the principle of universal acceptability for the
heads of churches has an importance which goes beyond the question of women's
ministry alone. In Wales, for example, it has been debated whether a bishop
ought to know the Welsh language if he is expected to represent the whole
church, and in England the question of citizenship might arise if a foreigner
were to be nominated as a bishop. There are obviously many monoglot
English-speakers in the Welsh ministry who would make excellent bishops, just
as there are many eminent foreigners who would grace the episcopate if they
were to be elected to it. The issue in such cases is not one of ability, but of
suitability, and here non-theological factors have a legitimate role to play,
as the case of Timothy's circumcision demonstrates.»[10]
Conclusion
The current
debate over the suitability of women bishops is one which finds equally sincere
people holding opposing and incompatible views. The minority traditionalist
'integrity' knows that it has little chance of persuading the majority,»20 but
continues to hope that time will show that it has been right to maintain its
stand. Its position is rooted in an understanding of Scripture and tradition
which is not eccentric or cantankerous, and may yet succeed in winning over the
majority to its views. Certainly there is little sign of its dying out in the
course of time, or of its becoming restricted to one group or type of
churchmanship.
Traditionalism
on this issue is widely spread across the church, and is present among women as
well as men. If it is wrong, as those who favour the consecration of women as
bishops clearly think it is, it should be allowed to die of its own accord (as
Jewish Christianity did) and not be expelled from the church by a majoritarian
imposition of a form of leadership which the minority cannot accept. This
willingness to wait for a consensus to emerge is known in theological parlance
as 'the process of reception'.
As long as there
are two integrities officially recognised in the Church of England, the process
of receiving women's ordination must be regarded as incomplete, and in those
circumstances, the consecration of women bishops can do nothing but divide the
church still further. The way forward is unclear, but supporters of women
bishops should at least understand that unless and until they can persuade the
other integrity of the rightness of their own position, the way of charity
dictates a willingness to forgo it for the sake of peace in the church as a
whole.
Bibliography
1.
J.
B. Lightfoot, St Paul's epistle to the Philippians (4th edn., London, 1878),.
The first edition, which also contained the dissertation, appeared in 1868.
2. R.
A. Campbell, The elders: seniority within earliest Christianity (Edinburgh,
1994),
3.
R.
A. Campbell, Elders,. In his reconstruction, the progressive emergence of the
monarchical episcopate was directly parallelled by the progressive exclusion of
women from positions of authority.
4.
Groh,
Dennis E. 1985. "Utterance and exegesis: Biblical interpretation in the
Montanist crisis," in Groh and Jewett, The Living Text (New York) pp
73–95.
5.
Heine, R.E., 1987 "The Role of the
Gospel of John in the Montanist controversy," in Second Century v. 6,
6.
Metzger,
Bruce (1987), The Canon of the New Testament. Its Origin, Development, and
Significance, Oxford University Press, pp. 99–106, ISBN 0-19826954-4.
7.
McGowan, Andrew B (2006),
"Tertullian and the 'Heretical' Origins of the 'Orthodox' Trinity",
Journal of Early Christian Studies 14: 437–57.
8.
Pelikan, Jaroslav (1977), The Christian
Tradition: A History of the Development of Christian Doctrine, I
9.
Butler, Rex (2006), The New Prophecy and
"New Visions": Evidence of Montanism in The Passion of Perpetua and
Felicitas, Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press
10. Montanismus
und seinen Verbindungen zur paganen Religion Phrygiens (in German), Stuttgart:
Franz Steiner
[1]
J. B. Lightfoot, St Paul's
epistle to the Philippians (4th edn., London, 1878), pp. 181-269. The first
edition, which also contained the dissertation, appeared in 1868.
[2]
R. A. Campbell, The elders:
seniority within earliest Christianity (Edinburgh, 1994), pp. 176-204.
[3]
R. A. Campbell, Elders, pp.
255-7. In his reconstruction, the progressive emergence of the monarchical
episcopate was directly parallelled by the progressive exclusion of women from
positions of authority.
[4] Groh, Dennis E. 1985. "Utterance
and exegesis: Biblical interpretation in the Montanist crisis," in Groh
and Jewett, The Living Text (New York) pp 73–95.
[5] Heine, R.E., 1987 "The Role
of the Gospel of John in the Montanist controversy," in Second Century v.
6, pp 1–18.
[6] Metzger, Bruce (1987), The Canon
of the New Testament. Its Origin, Development, and Significance, Oxford
University Press, pp. 99–106, ISBN 0-19826954-4.
[7] McGowan, Andrew B (2006),
"Tertullian and the 'Heretical' Origins of the 'Orthodox' Trinity",
Journal of Early Christian Studies 14: 437–57.
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