Susanna Krizo

TL, I think you are right. And it is interesting that the Free Methodists, who broke away from the Methodists over slavery in 1860 (since the Methodist church refused to speak against it) were the first ones to approve female clergy in 1911. Where were the dreaded secular feminists? Sixty years in the future! And how about this one: the Methodist church approved female clergy in 1956 during the “glory days” of homemaking. Were they influenced by secular feminists? Hardly, since there weren’t any.

Mara, here’s an excerpt from chapter 11 my book “When Dogmas Die”

Weinrich claims in his essay Women in the History of the Church that the “utter paucity of instances adduced where women were given or took the function of public preaching and teaching confirms” that only men ought to be leaders in the church. But if women were excluded from leadership in the patristic era, how much evidence of their previous existence in the clergy would be left for posterity to read?
Until the Nag Hammadi library was found in upper Egypt in 1945, the only source of information about Gnosticism were the scanty remarks found in the writings in the early Christian writers. Tobias Churton describes why the condemned material had to be hid in the middle of the fourth century.

Athanasius we know was in hiding among the monks of Upper Egypt in AD 356 during a temporary ‘turn-about’ in his episcopal career. It was perhaps his observation while hiding there that furnished him with a view that ‘some few of the simple should be beguiled from their simplicity and purity, but the subtlety of certain men, and should afterwards read other books – those called apocryphal.’ Now, if these texts were buried in response to a heresy ‘clearout’ at the time of broadcasting of the letter, then it was almost certainly the work of monks, in particular those monks who had most to lose from being associated with the condemned literature. If condemned heretics, such people would suffer excommunication and the accompanying divorce from Christ’s interests. Furthermore, the books would, according to practice be burned. We are observing a stiffening in the regime governing the Coptic (that is, Egyptian) Church. … As we shall see, the books buried in the middle of the fourth century would not fit in with the Creed. They had to go.

Although the extant literary evidence of women in leadership is scanty, we do not need to rely solely on written testimonies, for some of the extant evidence of female leadership in the church is found in tombstones and buildings, which are not as easily destroyed as burnable books.
Ute E. Eisen describes two inscriptions within the mosaics of the chapel of St. Zeno which mention episcopa Theodora, the mother of Pope Paschal I (817-824). Her husband, Bonosus, did not possess a sacerdotal title and therefore episcopa does not refer to a bishop’s wife. In a picture she is depicted with a rectangular halo, which was used for persons of high rank, such as bishops; saints were depicted with round halos. Over the halo, the word episcopa is inscribed. The attempts to interpret the mosaic have created an array of suggestions. Some have made it an honorary title for the mother of the pope, who was seen as taking the position of a wife by her son’s side. Others have made her into an abbess, although an abbess was never called episcopa, the title “abbess’ being well known. And yet others have tried to claim an interpolation, which is farfetched since the inscription is found twice, in different locations. No one has suggested that Theodora could have been a bishop, for women just are not supposed to be bishops in the church; instead the title episcopa is frequently omitted in the verbal reproductions of the inscription.
Kevin Madigan and Carolyn Osiek describe an inscription in mosaic in the Basilica of St. Augustine in Hippo, North-Africa, after the era of Vandal occupation which began in 431. The inscription reads, “Guilia Runa the prebyteress (presbiterissa), rest in peace, lived for fifty years.“ And John Wijngaards describes a tombstone from Delphi, Greece, of a woman deacon which states, “The most devout deaconess Athanasia, established deaconess by his holiness Bishop Pantamianos after she lived a blameless life. He erected this tomb on the place where her honored [body?] lies.”
Yet, the most undeniable evidence of women in ecclesiastical leadership is found in the Bible. Because the women leaders found in the Bible challenge the dogma of the woman’s subordination, the women in question have either been ignored – or transformed into men. Junia has become a controversial biblical figure because Paul calls her an apostle (Rom. 16:7). A footnote by the editors of the Early Church Writer’s collection provides us a vivid picture of how scholars have dealt with Junia’s identity.

The more probable view is that Andronicus and Junias [not Junia as Chrys., certainly not if his interpretation is correct; that a woman should have been an apostle is out of the question] are designated as distinguished, honorably known among (by) the apostles. (So De Wette, Philippi, Holmann, Meyer).

Schreiner is candid in his essay The Ministries of Women in the Context of Male Leadership about the problem Junia’s identity poses for complementarist theology.

Of course, if Junias was a woman apostle (Romans 16:7), then a tension is created between the apostleship of Junias (If Junias was a woman) and the other arguments adduced in the chapter, for apostles were certainly the most authoritative messengers of God in the New Testament.

He concludes that the passage is unclear and therefore no decisive decision can be made based on the information given in the Bible. Schreiner is not alone in his indecision for also Grudem writes that we cannot know if Junia was a woman because “the evidence is indecisive,” and therefore we cannot be dogmatic about the name. Although both Grudem and Schreiner wish to ignore Romans 16:7, Grudem does not consider it sound hermeneutic, “If someone says, ‘I am not going to base my decision on these verses because nobody can figure out what they mean anyway,’ then he has essentially said that those passages cannot play a role in his decision about this question.” Grudem must remain indecisive, despite his own advice, for if he claims that the name is ‘Junias,’ he must provide proof, which he cannot, for according to Eldon Jay Epp, “After all, the masculine Junias was asserted (I would say invented) when no evidence for such a masculine name could be found, a circumstance still unchanged.” On the other hand, if he admits Junia was a woman, he must explain how she could have been a bishop for he quotes Epiphanius, “Iounias, of whom [hou] Paul makes mention, became bishop of Apameia of Syria.” Epiphanius used the masculine relative pronoun (hou), but in the endnotes Grudem admits that he is perplexed that Epiphanius designates also Priscilla as a man.
Grudem quotes also Rufinus’s Latin translation of Origen’s commentary on Romans which has “Andronicus et Junias,” a Latin masculine, singular nominative. However, Epp cites Caroline Hammond Bammel’s critical edition on Origen which explains that Iunias (“Junias”) is a variant reading from a twelfth-century manuscript subgroup E, which also includes Iulia (“Julia”) as a variant. Earlier manuscripts from the ninth century all have Iunia (“Junia”). In addition, Hraban of Fulda (780-856) cited Rufinus’s translation of Origen literally and the name we find in his text is Junia.
Both the King James Version and New King James Version have Junia, as does Erasmus’s New Testament (1516). The Greek manuscripts all have Junia, except for five that have the variant Julia. In addition, some manuscripts have Junia in Romans 16:15 (where the name Julia appears), a variant which can be explained only if both of the names were feminine. Because of these variants, even Julia has become a male name in the hands of translators and commentators. Aegidius (1243/47-1316) is usually considered the first one to call Junia – and Julia – a man. However, by far the greatest influence over the identity of Junia has been Luther who brought the male Junias to the masses through his German translation of the New Testament (1522) and his Lectures on Romans.
That Junia was a woman is thus established, but was she was an apostle? Grudem attempts to make Andronicus and Junia “messengers” in the broad sense and he provides two examples: 1 Corinthians 8:23 and Philippians 2:25-6. But his case is weakened by the fact that the “brother” mentioned in 2 Corinthians 8:23 was chosen by the churches to join Titus as he traveled to Corinth to prepare the offering gathered by the Corinthians. Andronicus and Junia were in Rome and no mention is made of them traveling as representatives of the Roman church, or any other church, to distribute offerings gathered. Similarly, Epaphroditus was sent to Paul by the Philippian church to bring him their gift and to care for him in prison (Phil. 2:25-26). Paul mentions that Andronicus and Junia were “in Christ” before him, making it very possible that they had seen the risen Christ, which was one of the qualifications for apostleship.
Epiphanius writes that Junia whom Paul mentions became a bishop of Apameia, which further strengthens the case that Junia was an apostle, for the offices of an apostle and bishop were identical in the Early Church (1 Pet. 5:1; 2 John 1): “But deacons ought to remember that the Lord chose apostles, that is, bishops and overseers; while apostles appointed for themselves deacons after the ascent of the Lord into heaven, as ministers of their episcopacy and of the Church.”
An early witness to Junia’s identity is Chrysostom who did not only call Junia a woman –he also thought she was an apostle par excellence.

“Salute Andronicus and Junia my kinsmen.” …Then another praise besides. “Who are of note among the Apostles.” And indeed to be apostles at all is a great thing. But to be even amongst these of note, just consider what a great encomium this is! But they were of note owing to their works, to their achievements. Oh! how great is the devotion (?????????) of this woman, that she should be even counted worthy of the appellation of apostle! But even here he does not stop, but adds another encomium besides, and says, “Who were also in Christ before me.”

Yet, for some Junia cannot be an apostle and a woman at the same, regardless of the evidence for “if the phrase means ‘distinguished apostles,’ ‘Iouninan is a man…On the other hand, if the name is female, the phrase means ‘of note in the eyes of the apostles.’” Grudem does not dare to call Junia a man for the lack of evidence, but neither is he willing to call her a woman and give legitimacy to the existence of a female apostle and bishop. In a last effort to support his indecision, he writes that Junia was not a common woman’s name in the Greek-speaking world, which is true since it was a Latin name.
(Here ends the excerpt)