New Testament Professor Richard Hays died last week in Nashville, and made the news. He would have been remembered, more broadly, for his ambitious book on New Testament ethics, or, among scholars, more likely for his work on intertextuality. “Echoes” was his word, the word he would have been remembered for, as one of his categories of understanding how Biblical writers referenced the work of earlier Biblical writers.
But that is not how he is now being remembered. This is because, in his last book, The Widening of God’s Mercy, which he helped his son Christopher, another academic, write, the professor changed his mind and argued for the good of monogendered (homosexual) relationships. While Dr. Hays doesn’t deny that the Bible says such unions are wrong, he (and his son) argue that God in the Bible is on a track of changing His mind in ways that “expand the sphere of his love.” That is, God said what He said in the Bible, but now, He has other thoughts because, deep down, his heart beats with inclusivity. So, despite what Richard Hays expounded in his earlier ethics book, he has now changed his mind. Predictably, the New York Times eagerly welcomes this change as newsworthy.
The news took me back to my own memories of sitting in Richard Hays’ office arguing with him.
Why was I there? It was because Dr. Hays has always been generous and inclusive himself. I was a lowly undergraduate, not in any way connected with his department (I was studying Geology). But, after having a course with him in which we had some lively exchange, he kindly agreed to supervise an independent study project. I remember repeatedly trudging up the long hill to his cold but beautiful Colonial office at the Yale Divinity School, to sketch out the goal of my paper.
Even back then, Dr. Hays was, in my opinion, overly-generous towards other scholars in their loose handling of the Scriptures. We would go back and forth about how to properly treat the Bible. Of course, he knew a lot more than I did, so our bouts were never conclusive. But he was always patient and willing to engage with my sometimes fervent arguments.
It seemed to me then, as it does now, that he had fundamentally erred in refusing to believe some of the things that the Bible said. And, even with all his great sensitivity and insight, this unbelief would lead him down a path of denial of some points of God’s good creation that really mattered. Why he did this I don’t know. His parents divorced when he was three years old. This would present a formidable challenge to overcome for anyone in seeing God as He actually is. There are other challenges he faced as well, that may have left him with an incomplete view of who God is. Whatever the reason, that incomplete view is on display as he writes about a God Who expands in His qualities with time, and then only certain qualities. I will always remember Richard for how irenic and smart he was, but it will be a sad memory, for this incompleteness.
On its Biblical study merits, this last book of Richard Hays will be swiftly forgotten. The tensions it cites in the Old Testament are handled poorly, with prominent lapses of logic and weak exegesis. But for the news it makes about homosexuality, it will likely live on as a quotable support from a noted Bible scholar.
In mourning this news out of Nashville, I cannot help but recall another offering of the American South, the funny old 1936 movie, The Green Pastures. This clever, often hilarious (and with some gorgeous singing) film also propounds the idea of God changing His mind, growing through experience in dealing with people, but according to His character. If you have never watched it, I encourage your engagement—it, perhaps more enjoyably, portrays Richard Hays’ theology. God reaches a conclusion that His previous way of doing things was ineffective and out of step with where people are now. So, He changes (and sends Christ).
I should also mention that this theology is formulated by a little child falling asleep on a mother’s lap. Dr. Hays’ final thoughts are just about as sturdy.