Restoring Personhood – In the Early Church and Today

Gaius, mentioned in Paul’s letter to the Romans (16:23), was head of a household—meaning he likely had a large house that included his family and other workers and slaves. Andy Crouch observes that Gaius would have been a client to patrons above him as well as a patron to others with less status and power. Then Crouch makes this statement: "There is one other significant thing about Gaius that we need to grasp . . . He was a person" (15). Well, isn't that obvious? Do we need someone as brilliant as Andy Crouch to tell us that? What makes the statement significant is what Crouch explains next. In the Roman world at that time personhood was a legal category—someone with standing before the law. “Many people in Gaius’s world were, in fact not persons in this sense. Slaves, above all, though they were undeniably human, were treated under the law not as person but as property” (15). That helps us understand why Crouch told us he was a person, but why is Crouch writing about Gaius in a book on technology? (The Life We’re Looking For: Reclaiming Relationship in a Technological World.)

 Just as in Gaius’s day world forces hindered many humans from living as persons, Crouch argues that today technology and Mammon hinder humans from living as persons. Our machines and devices make us machine-like.

 Erastus, the next one mentioned in Romans, was a city official and also a person. The man mentioned before Gaius, Tertius, and the one after Erastus, Quartus, were not persons in Roman society. As Crouch observes, we know Tertius was a nobody partly because of his job—to take down dictation from important people like Gaius and Erastus. He may have been a slave, but even if a hired hand, he was still not considered a person. His name, "third," also points to his lack of status. Sons of slaves did not matter much, so they were often named by the month they were born or their birth order. Even non-slave families sometimes did this—only the first-born son really mattered. Out on the street, Gaius and Erastus are men of rank—persons, and Tertius and Quartus (Fourth) are nobodies—non-persons. But when they all gathered together as Jesus followers, the categories and stratification were left at the door. Slaves and free, scribes and city officials, men and women, all ate together at the same table. They all became persons.

 Crouch leads us to see this in the letter itself. He imagines Paul stopping dictation of his greetings and saying, “’Tertius, you should greet them.’ . . Suddenly the scribe is not just writing; he is speaking—and he has a name. . . Paul sees Tertius. He is Paul's brother, not just a hired hand" (115-16). Borrowing from Madeline L'Engle, we would say, Paul named him. “[T]he circle of brothers and sisters [expands] to include those who do the anonymous work, those who normally take orders, those who arrive without being greeted and depart without being noticed. Those who were named something like ‘number three’. . . But as they arrive and join the feast, every one of them is welcomed in the Lord. . . Because every one of them is a person” (116, 120).

The need for humans to be treated as persons, not things, is just as great or even greater today. There are still categories of people who, in the eyes of some, are less-than-human. Others perform machine-like labor and are often treated like machines. Yet now, even the personhood of those with status, today’s Gaius and Erastus, is lessened by technology and Mammon.

 Let us, the body of Christ, as individuals and communities, be instruments of naming—of restoring personhood to those who have lost or are losing it. Here are some ideas on how to do that.

          Table Fellowship – As in Gaius's time, inviting someone to share a meal communicates acceptance, restores dignity, and fosters human connection.

         Technology Fasts – In an earlier book, The Tech-Wise Family: Everyday Steps for Putting Technology in Its Proper Place, Andy Crouch shares some of his family’s practices, including fasting from their devices, one hour a day, one day a week, one week a year. Share the ideas, read the book with others—practice it together.

        Alternative Activities  – Don’t just take breaks from technology, but with intentionality do things that foster personhood—with friends, family, church community.

          Be Present  – Another area that calls for intentionality. In an age of absence be present to others.

          Give Dignity – Look for ways to increase the dignity of those with a dignity deficit.

         Evangelism – How might technology and Mammon's attack on personhood reframe how you think about and practice inviting others into a relationship with Jesus?

For Further reading –  In addition to the two books by Andy Crouch mentioned above, I recommend the following historical fiction books:

A Week in the Life of Rome  by James L. Papandrea

Lost Letters of Pergamum by Bruce Longenecker

 These narratives will help you feel and understand in greater depth the personhood-denying practices of Roman society and the radicalness of Christians' response.

Freedom from Superficiality, Distorted Definitions of Worth, and Exhausting Status Management

Guest blogger Jessica Rutkosky, graduated with an M.A. in Theology from Fresno Pacific Biblical Seminary in May 2013. She is an adjunct professor at FPU. She has twice taught the online version of Discipleship and Ethics and regularly teaches in FPU’s Degree Completion Program. She blogs at: http://www.musingsofatheologist.com/blog

Part One: Parenting: Naming in my living room 

My 10-year-old stepdaughter started 5th grade several days ago. Towards the end of her 4th grade year, and over the summer, she’d been struggling with some of her friendships; a struggle exacerbated by COVID and confounded by social media.

In general, she’s beginning to encounter the challenges that come with all relationships—communication, reciprocity, and rejection. But more specifically, she’s becoming acquainted with how fleeting relationships can be at this age, how venomous girls can be, and how exhausting keeping up with the “young” Joneses is. 

Despite our best attempts, my stepdaughter is consumed by the latest trends, as these are an indication of popularity; a societal benchmark she’s learned all too young. 

Yet, at the core, it’s really her desire for acceptance that consumes her. She wants to be part of the group that has everything—looks, clothes, big houses, and fashionable lip gloss—because this is a confirmation of her own status and belonging.

For a long time, my husband and I have lamented this. Together, we’ve tried to figure out how to expose these superficial forces and shallow friendships that have such a hold on her, and which are preventing her from being her. 

The opportunity came last night. 

In a moment of intense vulnerability, she became an emotional hydrant, sharing everything she was feeling and thinking. She shared how she was turning into someone she didn’t like, all in an effort to gain the approval of the “popular” girls. She expressed how exhausting it was to try to “keep up with them,” and yet how jealous she still was of them. She revealed how poorly they’d treated her, yet how rejected she still felt that they didn’t want to be her friends. 

My husband and I sat with her as tears poured from her eyes, with the same intensity and rapidity as the revelations about self and relationships were hitting her. We validated how painful this all must be, how rejection hurts, and how devastating it can feel when we’re confronted with our own ugliness. 

While my husband got up to let the cat in, I asked her, “What makes you the feel the saddest?” She responded, “They don’t get to see the deep parts of me.”

I sat in awe of perhaps the most profound revelation yet. I was amazed at how quickly she identified precisely what she was feeling, and how candidly, and courageously, she shared. 

Vulnerability has a way of opening us up to truth. And my husband capitalized on this. 

For the most part, I sat on the sidelines, witnessing this beautiful naming moment. 

He affirmed that we saw, understood, and loved the deep parts of her; that we know her to be the intelligent, funny, quirky, loving girl that she is; that we know the sweetness and kindness that’s core to her identity; that we accept her. He then counseled her that true, healthy friends, will see this too; that they will understand and love her deep parts just like we do. She just needs to let them see it, because hiding them is such a loss for her and others. 

We’d all been in the emotional depths for a while, and my stepdaughter, needing to surface, brought some levity by sharing a funny story. 

Later that night, my husband and I celebrated this victory. 

Part Two: Naming in the Bible: Individual and Communal 

Though I’ve been teaching the letter to Philemon for almost 6 years, I never connected “naming” to the events that transpire in the letter. Yet, this is the very thing that’s happening. 

In Bible courses for FPU’s Degree Completion Program, I guide my students through the historical and literary contexts of the letter, in the hopes that this investigative work will lead to a richer understanding of Paul’s petition. In these conversations, we talk a lot about “story.” Specifically, how Paul uses the Jesus story to challenge the story of Roman society, as it relates to the identities of the individuals in the letter. That is true,  however, “naming” seems an even more apt description of what Paul is doing. In fact, Paul directly names Onesimus in the letter, “no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a beloved brother” (v. 16). Paul further “names” Onesimus, calling him “my child” (v. 10), “useful” (v. 11), and “my own heart” (v. 12). All of these descriptions counteract how Roman society had “un-named” Onesimus. Paul was a “Namer,” Roman society the echthroi.

The Roman echthroi had branded Onesimus as “useless” and merely a “slave.” His identity was wrapped up in these labels. Not only did Onesimus believe this, but Philemon as well, and quite possibly, the church that met in Philemon’s home. When Paul names Onesimus, it’s for all to hear. It’s not just for Onesimus’ sake. What’s fascinating about naming is that it’s simultaneously for the individual and the community. Onesimus needed to be named in order to become a part of the Christian community that awaited upon his return. The Christian community needed to hear this in order to embrace Onesimus, and continuously remind him, and themselves, of their cross-centered identities. They were all brothers and sisters, partners, and coworkers, united in Christ, unphased by the status and rank of Roman society.

In the letter, Paul models what it means to be a “Namer,” in the hopes that the church will continue naming in his stead

Naming

One of the questions I asked in a survey I did of former students was: what topic from the course has had the greatest impact on your life, work, ministry? “Naming” was the number one response. Yet in the almost 50 blogs I have written I did not even dedicate a full blog to naming, only part of one. Why is that, what’s going on?

It did not intentionally avoid writing on naming. So I can’t say exactly why I did not. Perhaps I have not written blogs on naming because I sense that anyone who has been in my class already clearly understands it. I do not feel a need to further clarify or even review. I have, however, made a fundamental mistake. True, many of the blogs I write share new insights—things I had not already said in classes. Yet my primary motivation for doing this blog and website is the conviction that the current of society flows strongly against the way of Jesus. We need encouragement and support to stand against that current. So, the purpose of the blogs is to inform, but also to affirm and encourage actions that are not easy and natural because they go against the current. I have been remiss to not write and encourage you to more actively name others.

In this short blog I will do four things. First, for those of you who are not former students of mine and are wondering, “what is ‘naming’?” I give a brief explanation. (The rest of you can skip the next two paragraphs.) Second, I introduce a great parallel metaphor which will both increase understanding of naming and motivation to name. Third, I ask a few questions I invite you to respond to prayerfully. Finally, an invitation that will help there be more blogs about naming.

Naming Explained

Naming is a central activity in Madeline L’Engle’s  novel A Wind in the Door, which is a sequel to A Wrinkle in Time. As the characters in the book explain it, naming helps someone become more the particular person that she or he was meant to be. As the story unfolds we observe that naming requires discernment, is rooted in love, and is a process that utilizes both words and actions. Naming both calls and aids people to live more fully as the people whom God created them to be, more in the image of Jesus Christ. One key element in the book is that someone cannot name himself or herself. Naming affirms individuality but stands against autonomous individualism.

Perhaps the most obvious type of naming is when someone says something affirmative about us that gets to the core of who we are and calls us to live that out. Coupled with this is the act of helping people peel off debilitating false labels that others have stuck on them. Naming also includes helping people identify and change behaviors that hinder them from thriving and living out their calling. Furthermore, naming helps people develop positive behaviors and character traits. 

Parallel Metaphor

Just a few days ago I read a short blog by former student and former T. A., Dallas Nord. He develops an excellent metaphor that moved me. It moved me to want what he describes for myself and want to do it for others. It can, I believe, lead to a deeper practice of naming. I will not even try to summarize because: first, Dallas is a much better writer than I am—read his beautiful words. Two, it is short—no need give a shorter version.

Take a Moment to Reflect, Listen, Pray

- How have you been named recently? Thank God, and perhaps the person or community that named you, for that naming.

- Who are people you have named or are naming? What are additional ways God might be calling you to name them?

- Who are people you know in need of naming? Who are ones God is calling you to name?

- How might you do so?

Growing in Naming, Learning from Others

Please send me an example of how you have used naming. It could be a short account of a specific example, a description of a general practice you do frequently, a story of the fruit of your efforts at naming, or insights on how you have learned to be better at naming. What is something you know about naming now, that you did not know when you left seminary? Please send these to me and I will shape the contributions into a blog (or multiple blogs).

Little Things Matter

I am the type that retrieves a water bottle from a trash can and puts it in the recycle bin. Just did it leaving class last night. I often feel compelled to take small actions like that—with a sense that they matter. Once in Honduras I joined neighbors to stop a forest fire from reaching our homes. A trail in the woods was our line of defense. We cleared brush on both sides of the trail so the fire would not cross that line. Then we stood guard in case sparks blew across the trail. As I watched the fire crawl down the hill towards us I looked at the little pine trees in between the trail and the approaching flames. While others stood by, I went up the hill a few yards and began clearing more brush. I made a new line of defense that saved a few of the trees. In the months ahead I would pass those trees and think, “little things matter.” We see this in the Bible—a few loaves and fishes, a mustard seed, a few coins. Thinking of forest fires reminds me that James states it explicitly. The tongue is a small thing, but like a small fire can set a whole forest ablaze so the small tongue can do great harm (James 3:1-12). Little things matter. Big things can come from them. Although I can make a biblical case for this point, I can’t claim my attention to small things flows from reading the Bible. Perhaps it does. Perhaps it is my personality. Whatever the origin of it, I do live as if little things matter.

My conviction that little things matter was reinforced in a number of ways in the last couple weeks. Articles warning of negative consequences of overuse of mobile devices have gone mainstream. I have read and heard many in recent days. An article in Time reported that, since 2010, rates of teenage depression and suicide have increased dramatically. Many believe mobile phone use and social media are a significant reason. (Just one statistic, see the article for more: adolescents who use electronic devices three or more hours a day were 34% more likely to have a suicide related outcome than those who used them two hours or less; with five hour daily use the likelihood increased to 48%.) That article, or news clips like this one and this one from NPR, saddened and sobered me. Yet, little things matter. There is hope.

A student, Matt Vincent, wrote this in a post last week:

A while ago, we "woke up" to the reality that our kids were spending more and more time online—either playing games or watching youtube/video content. We were beginning to notice some behavioral changes like those mentioned in the audio posts--grumpy, irritable, temper, and withdrawn. My wife and I decided to impose a "technology fast" for the kids—taking away phones, computer, etc. for a week. Our kids were not fans of this idea, and tried their best to argue that it wasn't needed and everything was fine :)

Almost immediately, we noticed a change in them. They started hanging out and playing more together; they spent more time outside with friends, and our time together as a family was better. We enjoyed longer conversations around the dinner table, and did more activities together. It was a pretty remarkable change.

Little things matter, and studies affirm what this student observed—remarkable positive change can come quickly. In a New York Times article Sherry Turkle describes an alarming drop in empathy amongst children and youth. Then she writes:

But we are resilient. The psychologist Yalda T. Uhls was the lead author on a 2014 study of children at a device-free outdoor camp. After five days without phones or tablets, these campers were able to read facial emotions and correctly identify the emotions of actors in videotaped scenes significantly better than a control group. What fostered these new empathic responses? They talked to one another. In conversation, things go best if you pay close attention and learn how to put yourself in someone else’s shoes.

Resiliency is not limited to humans, it is found throughout God’s creation. I saw this in another student’s reflection a couple weeks ago. Eric Miller visited a Kansas farmer as part of an act-observe-reflect-adjust assignment. Eric retells the farmer’s story from a recent seven-year drought.

One August morning he walked out of the house and it was already uncomfortably hot as the sun began to rise. He thought about his 2,000 acres of crops and his ten irrigation pivots which were each pumping 1000 gallons per minute out of the Equs Beds Aquifer. It was in that moment he started to call into question the sustainability of these methods where much of the crops grown in our state are consumed by animals so we can consume the animals. When I asked him about the future, he said without missing a beat, “We’re going to run out of water. It’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when.”

 He is currently in process of transitioning a quarter section (160 acres) back to grass and grazing his cows on it. This is only possible because there is now a growing market for grass-fed beef. He is also planting cover crops all winter and using the cover crops as mulch in which he plants grain in the spring. These methods have allowed him to use one tenth of the water he had been using! The young man who is working alongside him and in process of taking over the farming operation has hired a crop consultant who is helping them move away from monocultural farming methods in order to reduce the amount of herbicides and pesticides needed, which in turn reduces input costs and increases profitability. At one point in our conversation he told me, “Kansas was meant to be prairie. At some point it will need to return to Prairie.” Their crop consultant is helping them consider how to use the natural gifts of the prairie to produce food in the most sustainable ways. 

Little things matter. They are worth doing. Of course one could say, “this is a huge farm these are not little things—that is a lot of cover crop.” True, but the huge ramifications that flow from small changes still led me to think, “little things matter.” There is hope.

It is not just in growing food that little things matter, also in eating it. One student described radical life-giving changes that flowed from his avoiding sugar in his diet. Little things matter. They can bring positive changes to our lives. And little things matter not just in what we eat, but also in the setting, the meal itself. This semester a few students wrote of making the commitment to prepare meals at home and eat together around a table for the week the course focused on food and farming. As students have observed other years, this contributes to so much more than intake of healthier food. They describe increased laughter, connection, sharing. The relational impact from this simple change exceeded expectations. Little things matter.

As we seek to name others, little things matter—a question, looking someone in the eyes. Last week a woman told me of a vivid memory from a few years ago. She was sitting with her husband and another man—all three were in leadership roles in ministry. She recounted that her husband brought up a controversial Rob Bell book. She said, “so I braced myself for a long theological discussion where my brain wanders but my face pretends to listen attentively. My husband casually mentioned that I also had read the book and at the next pause in conversation the other man looked at me and asked, ‘What did you think about it?’ This small question spoke volumes. I’ve been in Christian settings and leadership positions for many years, and I remember this as the first time someone specifically and genuinely asked for my thoughts. It was one of those revealing moments that was disappointing because it shed light on how often I’m not asked questions–especially when my husband is around–but it also was an incredibly beautiful moment.” Little things matter.

How have you gained hope and been encouraged by seeing God use little things in your life or ministry? What little things might God be calling you to do?