In case you have not noticed, I have been blogging recently mainly about foundational matters in ethics. I have argued that the Scriptures have a coherent ethical philosophy despite the fact that they do not arrange their ethics as a treatise and despite the fact that the rules of the Old Testament and the New Testament differ somewhat. In this blog I invite you to understand that ethics means more than a criterion for deciding right and wrong. We would recognize this instantly if we spoke Greek. The word “ethics” comes from a Greek word that means “that which is customary or habitual.” Ethics does not merely draw boundaries; it also inculcates good habits. It defines the practices that lead to the virtuous life and away from the vice-ridden.
All too often in our thinking about ethics we reduce the question to “Is x right or wrong?” Even worse, we reduce our ethical thinking to a few slogans, whether it be the Golden Rule or Kant’s Categorical Imperative or even something as elaborate as the Ten Commandments. Now if that were the beginning of our ethical thinking—that is, if we used these items to begin thinking of the sorts of practices we would like to cultivate—it might not be so bad. But when it is the end of our ethical thinking, it becomes so reductionistic that it actually may encourage us to lead an evil life. We say, “Technically I haven’t violated law Y or Z (understood in their narrowest sense); therefore I am still behaving in a moral way until I violate a law.”
We would not live so carelessly in other matters. If I were going down a winding mountain pass, it would be foolish of me to ask, “How fast can I go without going off the cliff?” If I have any sense at all, I would take every precaution so that the most trivial mistake on my part or a malfunction of my car would not send me over the guard rail. Even if technically I have not run into trouble as long as my car stays on the road, I have needlessly endangered myself and perhaps others. One day my carelessness could cost me my life. But our pet sins flourish because we think that we can do everything leading up to that sin and then slam on the brakes at the last moment. When we inevitably fail, we wonder why.
A better question to ask when going down a winding mountain pass would be, “What is the best way that I can handle this mountain road?” rather than “How fast can I go?” Similarly, a better question to ask about our lives when dealing with a moral dilemma is “How can I best live a godly life that glorifies God?” rather than “How far can I go before I do something immoral?”
This is the approach that the Scriptures take. Paul’s epistles, for example, repeatedly call God’s people to live out their baptismal life. If you look at such passages as Romans 12-13 or Galatians 5 or Colossians 3, you see that Paul does more than warn people against bad behavior. He urges them to live a life that reflects God’s working in them. Similarly, our Lord in the Sermon on the Mount warns against a mere reductionistic reading of the law (Matthew 5:21-37) but urges us to do more than avoid evil but to pursue the good that is beyond the comprehension of the heathen (Matthew 5:28-48) and to embrace the attitudes summarized in the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:1-12). We are to be more than good. We are to be salt and light (Matthew 5:13-16).
© 2010 James A. Kellerman
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Applying Old Testament Law to the New Testament Era
In a previous blog I wrote that the Bible doesn’t always organize its system of ethics as a textbook would. It does deal with right and wrong, but more often than not it does not do so in the abstract but in describing how people relate to God, whether in hearing His judgment or His word of forgiveness. That doesn’t mean that there is no right and wrong or that the ethics of the Bible are unclear. Rather it means that we gain a deeper understanding of God’s philosophy of right and wrong by coming to know Him fully rather than by merely looking at a treatise on ethics.
What complicates matters is that the explicit ethical content of the Bible differs somewhat in both testaments. Some laws of the Old Testament clearly do not apply anymore, as all recognize. No Christian of any stripe, no matter how inclined they are towards the Old Testament, offers the sacrifices prescribed by Leviticus, even though God was quite insistent on their observance. Why do Christians ignore the rules about the sacrifices while insisting that other rules of the Old Testament, such as those related to sexual immorality, still apply?
I would suggest that a metaphor the apostle Paul uses in Galatians 3:24-25 can solve this dilemma. He argues that the law served as a guardian for ancient Israel, which was still under age at that time. Paul doesn’t develop the metaphor other than to say that being under the tutelage of a guardian is little better than being a slave; the difference comes when a person reaches adulthood. I would like to argue, though, that the rules one learns as a child serve as an example of the sort of rules God gave the Israelites. Just as children retain some rules into adulthood while outgrowing others, so some aspects of the law remain valid at all times while others were outgrown when Christ came. Moreover, even in the rules that no longer apply there are principles that are still relevant.
For example, think of a grown man recalling an incident when he was four. His mother looked out the window and saw him wandering out into the street to get his ball. By the time she ran outside, he was back on the front yard and denied ever going into the street. She reminded him that he had been told never to tell a lie and never to enter the street without being accompanied by an adult. Although she punished him for breaking both rules that day, she punished him more severely for going into the street than for lying about it. Now what is he supposed to think today? He might be tempted to say, “My mother doesn’t still enforce the rule about not entering a street unaccompanied. Therefore, she doesn’t care about lying anymore, either, and I can lie if I want to.” Or he could take a legalistic tone: “I know that lying is wrong and always has been. Therefore, crossing the street by myself must also be wrong.” Most of us would instinctively know that both answers are foolish. There are some rules that apply universally and others that apply to particular circumstances. All people should tell the truth, but those who are not mature enough to cross the street by themselves shouldn’t do so. But even from the rule that has been changed there is a universal principle: crossing a street requires paying attention. Those who cannot pay due attention should be forbidden to cross the street by themselves; those who can pay attention may cross the street on their own.
From this analogy we can understand why God punished rather severely those who broke the Sabbath in the Old Testament days, but that does not necessarily mean that we have to keep it as the Israelites did. The Sabbath was a useful tool to instruct people to take time to listen to God’s Word. As with all the ceremonial law, it trained people to leave behind pagan thought patterns and to look forward to the redemption won by Christ (Hebrews 10:1-4). But once Christ had come, people could look to the reality rather than the shadow (Hebrews 10:1). We can enjoy Christ as our Sabbath rest rather than the earthly Sabbath practiced by the Israelites (Hebrews 4:3, 8-11). In fact, the Scriptures explicitly state that the rules of the Old Testament holidays no longer apply (Colossians 2:16-17). Jesus as Lord of the Sabbath (Mark 2:28; Luke 6:5) had the power to abrogate it, much as a parent has the authority to change household rules, and He has done so.
As some rules from childhood are set aside, our responsibility grows, not diminishes. All a four year old has to do with streets is to keep the rule not to cross it. No further thought is required. But older children and adults have much to think about. Have they looked both ways? Is the car really going to stop at the stop sign or is the driver too busy talking on the cell phone? In the same way, it was relatively easy to keep the Sabbath in the Old Testament; one simply stopped working. But entering the true Sabbath rest by believing in Christ (Hebrews 4:3) requires much more attention. It is not a one-day-a-week phenomenon, but a 24/7 one. Also because we grow in responsibility as we mature, there are also some things permitted in our childhood that are no longer permitted in adulthood. Small children are permitted to fidget, but adults are expected to sit still. By the same token, there were things permitted under the Old Testament law (such as polygamy) that are not permitted now.
I will have more to say about ethics in future blogs, but I think some things are clear from this blog and the one I posted on April 15. What at first looks like a chaotic system really is not. There is a system of values that lies behind all of the Scriptures’ rules. One discovers it not merely by looking at explicit laws but also by considering the values that underlie the interactions between God and His people. Even when certain rules are later abrogated, the underlying principles remain in force. If anything, when God lessens the force of a particular rule He actually increases our responsibility because we are ready to bear it. And thus we have an ethical system that is incredibly rich and encourages people to grow and to mature.
© 2010 James A. Kellerman
What complicates matters is that the explicit ethical content of the Bible differs somewhat in both testaments. Some laws of the Old Testament clearly do not apply anymore, as all recognize. No Christian of any stripe, no matter how inclined they are towards the Old Testament, offers the sacrifices prescribed by Leviticus, even though God was quite insistent on their observance. Why do Christians ignore the rules about the sacrifices while insisting that other rules of the Old Testament, such as those related to sexual immorality, still apply?
I would suggest that a metaphor the apostle Paul uses in Galatians 3:24-25 can solve this dilemma. He argues that the law served as a guardian for ancient Israel, which was still under age at that time. Paul doesn’t develop the metaphor other than to say that being under the tutelage of a guardian is little better than being a slave; the difference comes when a person reaches adulthood. I would like to argue, though, that the rules one learns as a child serve as an example of the sort of rules God gave the Israelites. Just as children retain some rules into adulthood while outgrowing others, so some aspects of the law remain valid at all times while others were outgrown when Christ came. Moreover, even in the rules that no longer apply there are principles that are still relevant.
For example, think of a grown man recalling an incident when he was four. His mother looked out the window and saw him wandering out into the street to get his ball. By the time she ran outside, he was back on the front yard and denied ever going into the street. She reminded him that he had been told never to tell a lie and never to enter the street without being accompanied by an adult. Although she punished him for breaking both rules that day, she punished him more severely for going into the street than for lying about it. Now what is he supposed to think today? He might be tempted to say, “My mother doesn’t still enforce the rule about not entering a street unaccompanied. Therefore, she doesn’t care about lying anymore, either, and I can lie if I want to.” Or he could take a legalistic tone: “I know that lying is wrong and always has been. Therefore, crossing the street by myself must also be wrong.” Most of us would instinctively know that both answers are foolish. There are some rules that apply universally and others that apply to particular circumstances. All people should tell the truth, but those who are not mature enough to cross the street by themselves shouldn’t do so. But even from the rule that has been changed there is a universal principle: crossing a street requires paying attention. Those who cannot pay due attention should be forbidden to cross the street by themselves; those who can pay attention may cross the street on their own.
From this analogy we can understand why God punished rather severely those who broke the Sabbath in the Old Testament days, but that does not necessarily mean that we have to keep it as the Israelites did. The Sabbath was a useful tool to instruct people to take time to listen to God’s Word. As with all the ceremonial law, it trained people to leave behind pagan thought patterns and to look forward to the redemption won by Christ (Hebrews 10:1-4). But once Christ had come, people could look to the reality rather than the shadow (Hebrews 10:1). We can enjoy Christ as our Sabbath rest rather than the earthly Sabbath practiced by the Israelites (Hebrews 4:3, 8-11). In fact, the Scriptures explicitly state that the rules of the Old Testament holidays no longer apply (Colossians 2:16-17). Jesus as Lord of the Sabbath (Mark 2:28; Luke 6:5) had the power to abrogate it, much as a parent has the authority to change household rules, and He has done so.
As some rules from childhood are set aside, our responsibility grows, not diminishes. All a four year old has to do with streets is to keep the rule not to cross it. No further thought is required. But older children and adults have much to think about. Have they looked both ways? Is the car really going to stop at the stop sign or is the driver too busy talking on the cell phone? In the same way, it was relatively easy to keep the Sabbath in the Old Testament; one simply stopped working. But entering the true Sabbath rest by believing in Christ (Hebrews 4:3) requires much more attention. It is not a one-day-a-week phenomenon, but a 24/7 one. Also because we grow in responsibility as we mature, there are also some things permitted in our childhood that are no longer permitted in adulthood. Small children are permitted to fidget, but adults are expected to sit still. By the same token, there were things permitted under the Old Testament law (such as polygamy) that are not permitted now.
I will have more to say about ethics in future blogs, but I think some things are clear from this blog and the one I posted on April 15. What at first looks like a chaotic system really is not. There is a system of values that lies behind all of the Scriptures’ rules. One discovers it not merely by looking at explicit laws but also by considering the values that underlie the interactions between God and His people. Even when certain rules are later abrogated, the underlying principles remain in force. If anything, when God lessens the force of a particular rule He actually increases our responsibility because we are ready to bear it. And thus we have an ethical system that is incredibly rich and encourages people to grow and to mature.
© 2010 James A. Kellerman
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Rich and Poor Alike
Recently a letter to the editor of the Chicago Tribune commented in passing that Jesus would have spent time with the poor and told the rich to sell all they owned. I also recall reading a year or two ago in the Chicago Tribune Magazine a letter to the editor took Francis Cardinal George to task for hosting a swanky Christmastime soiree (and the magazine for covering it) and said that Jesus would have rather spent His time at some soup kitchen on the west side.
It is hard to disagree with the sentiment. Throughout the Scriptures God defends the poor, the widows, and the orphans. He opposes those who would victimize them. He urges people to give alms to them. Jesus commended the impoverished widow for her great generosity, though she could give only pennies while the wealthy gave wads of cash (Luke 21:1-4). How one treats the poor is a real hallmark of that person’s spirituality.
And yet the two letters miss the mark. The authors leap from the fact that God loves the poor to the conclusion that God loves only the poor. In truth God loves rich and poor alike. And this is shown in our Lord’s interactions with the rich and poor. He attended the banquets of many rich people—Zacchaeus (Luke 19:2, 7), Matthew (Matthew 9:10-13), and a ruler of the Pharisees (Luke 14:1), to name a few. Some of the banquets he attended must have been real shindigs because the guests vied for positions of honor (Luke 14:7). And there were people who were deeply offended by our Lord’s attendance at these lavish affairs. They grumbled because these people had gained their wealth unjustly and our Lord was dining in their homes (Luke 15:2; 19:7). His enemies went so far as to call Jesus a party animal (Luke 7:34). They were even more offended when lavish gifts were poured out upon him, especially when there were so many poor who needed help (John 12:5). What is more, our Lord demanded of only one rich man that he give up all his wealth and that because he loved his possessions more than he loved God (Mark 10:21-22). He said nothing to the other rich people He encountered.
In popular imagination the only way that our Lord could have cared for the poor was by hating the rich, and vice versa. Similarly, we imagine that if our Lord hated the hypocrisy of the Pharisees (which He did), He must have avoided them at all costs. In reality, He dined with them frequently (see Luke 7:36 and 14:1 for a couple of examples) and loved them no less than He loved His disciples. Jesus was one of the rarest of human beings—comfortable with rich and poor alike, loving hypocrites and open sinners equally. He was not offended by anyone’s poverty or wealth. He did not curry favor with either, but called all to fellowship and discipleship. I would fully expect Him to be hobnobbing with people in a Gold Coast penthouse one evening and to share a crust of moldy bread in a decrepit housing project on the west side the next evening—and to feel perfectly at home in both places.
Why cannot we have the same attitude? We human beings are tempted to think that we are more deserving of God’s love than others are. We are poorer and that is proof that we are more honest. Or we are richer and that is proof that we are more hard-working. We are more religious and that is proof that we are godlier. Or we can’t stand all the hypocritical claptrap and that is proof that we are more acceptable than the religious people. But, of course, these attitudes simply indicate how uncomfortable we are with ourselves. We are graceless toward others because we fear that there is no grace for us.
I don’t deny that rich people and poor people alike have their faults and sometimes it is hard to see them as human beings because their sins distort their humanity. But we need to learn our Lord’s attitude and see the person beloved by God, not a caricature of our own making or of theirs.
© 2010 James A. Kellerman
It is hard to disagree with the sentiment. Throughout the Scriptures God defends the poor, the widows, and the orphans. He opposes those who would victimize them. He urges people to give alms to them. Jesus commended the impoverished widow for her great generosity, though she could give only pennies while the wealthy gave wads of cash (Luke 21:1-4). How one treats the poor is a real hallmark of that person’s spirituality.
And yet the two letters miss the mark. The authors leap from the fact that God loves the poor to the conclusion that God loves only the poor. In truth God loves rich and poor alike. And this is shown in our Lord’s interactions with the rich and poor. He attended the banquets of many rich people—Zacchaeus (Luke 19:2, 7), Matthew (Matthew 9:10-13), and a ruler of the Pharisees (Luke 14:1), to name a few. Some of the banquets he attended must have been real shindigs because the guests vied for positions of honor (Luke 14:7). And there were people who were deeply offended by our Lord’s attendance at these lavish affairs. They grumbled because these people had gained their wealth unjustly and our Lord was dining in their homes (Luke 15:2; 19:7). His enemies went so far as to call Jesus a party animal (Luke 7:34). They were even more offended when lavish gifts were poured out upon him, especially when there were so many poor who needed help (John 12:5). What is more, our Lord demanded of only one rich man that he give up all his wealth and that because he loved his possessions more than he loved God (Mark 10:21-22). He said nothing to the other rich people He encountered.
In popular imagination the only way that our Lord could have cared for the poor was by hating the rich, and vice versa. Similarly, we imagine that if our Lord hated the hypocrisy of the Pharisees (which He did), He must have avoided them at all costs. In reality, He dined with them frequently (see Luke 7:36 and 14:1 for a couple of examples) and loved them no less than He loved His disciples. Jesus was one of the rarest of human beings—comfortable with rich and poor alike, loving hypocrites and open sinners equally. He was not offended by anyone’s poverty or wealth. He did not curry favor with either, but called all to fellowship and discipleship. I would fully expect Him to be hobnobbing with people in a Gold Coast penthouse one evening and to share a crust of moldy bread in a decrepit housing project on the west side the next evening—and to feel perfectly at home in both places.
Why cannot we have the same attitude? We human beings are tempted to think that we are more deserving of God’s love than others are. We are poorer and that is proof that we are more honest. Or we are richer and that is proof that we are more hard-working. We are more religious and that is proof that we are godlier. Or we can’t stand all the hypocritical claptrap and that is proof that we are more acceptable than the religious people. But, of course, these attitudes simply indicate how uncomfortable we are with ourselves. We are graceless toward others because we fear that there is no grace for us.
I don’t deny that rich people and poor people alike have their faults and sometimes it is hard to see them as human beings because their sins distort their humanity. But we need to learn our Lord’s attitude and see the person beloved by God, not a caricature of our own making or of theirs.
© 2010 James A. Kellerman
Thursday, April 15, 2010
A Messy System?
If you were writing a treatise on ethics, how would you go about writing it? You would divide ethics into several categories—personal ethics, ethics at home, ethics in the workplace, and ethics in society, for example—and then write a chapter or two on each category. Since each category can be further divided into sub-categories (ethics in the workplace could be divided into how to treat co-workers, how to treat customers, and how to treat the boss), these divisions could form sections in a chapter. If you proceeded in this way, you might get something very much like a work written by Aristotle or Immanuel Kant, but you wouldn’t get the Scriptures.
Why is that? We could simply say that the Bible isn’t an ethical treatise. It does touch on ethical matters, but it is so much more than that. It is the history of God at work among His people as He saves them. Because He saves them from the consequences of their sins, He does have to deal with the difference between right and wrong. But because God is more interested in unfolding His story, He doesn’t address the topic of ethics as a systematic treatise.
In this way the Scriptures handle ethics much in the same way that parents do when they teach their children the difference between right and wrong. Sometimes parents lay down a handful of rules and give reasons for each of them. But that is rather rare—about as often as God gave the Ten Commandments. More frequently parents give their children a particular outlook on life, sometimes by passing on a favorite adage, other times by making a passing remark approving or disapproving a behavior, and still other times by choosing a particular pattern of behavior for themselves.
I think, for example, of my own upbringing. I can recall only one time when either of my parents made a big speech about illegal drug use. My dad had just served as a juror at a trial of a man who had messed up his life with narcotics. My dad didn’t divulge any of the particulars, but he did comment on the tragedy of the situation and said that he hoped that we would learn from other people’s mistakes. But despite hearing very little about the topic, I never considered using drugs. Why? The ethical system I learned from my parents didn’t come only from their explicit statements on a particular topic, but from their whole philosophy of life as revealed in several ways. In fact, I can go so far as to say that if my dad had never broached the subject, I would still know that my parents disapproved of illegal drugs. I saw it in the way that they honored and obeyed the laws of our country. I saw it in the way that they didn’t believe that life was meant to be a pursuit of one heady experience after another. They were responsible and content. They believed that hard work was a form of pleasure. Using narcotics would go against every aspect of that philosophy.
The school where I attended tried a different approach. On the one hand, we spent a week or two in ninth grade P.E. being warned about the effects of various drugs (including legal ones such as alcohol). On the other hand, this instruction was being given in the late 70’s when youth were still expected to experiment with substances legal and illegal and when parents and teachers were generally permissive about such things, if not indulging in them themselves. At best I would have gotten mixed signals from those at school: the main problem with drugs was their nasty side effects; as long as they could be minimized or if a new drug could be invented without them (such as Ecstasy claimed to be in the 90’s), it would be all right to use it.
The advantage of my parents’ approach is that they didn’t have to change their instruction every time a new drug was invented. They had conveyed a philosophy of life explicitly and implicitly, and I was able to extrapolate from it to new circumstances. And that is also the advantage of the way the Scriptures teach ethics. They don’t have to state explicitly what is right and wrong on every topic in order to have a coherent ethical framework that can be applied to all sorts of topics, even to issues that couldn’t have been envisioned in the day when the Scriptures were being written. Of course, that means that we have to be willing to pay close attention to the beliefs, values, and attitudes inculcated by the Scriptures if we want to understand fully its ethical system and apply it to today’s issues. It is harder work than simply picking up and reading a treatise by Aristotle or Kant, but it is more rewarding, too.
© 2010 James A. Kellerman
Why is that? We could simply say that the Bible isn’t an ethical treatise. It does touch on ethical matters, but it is so much more than that. It is the history of God at work among His people as He saves them. Because He saves them from the consequences of their sins, He does have to deal with the difference between right and wrong. But because God is more interested in unfolding His story, He doesn’t address the topic of ethics as a systematic treatise.
In this way the Scriptures handle ethics much in the same way that parents do when they teach their children the difference between right and wrong. Sometimes parents lay down a handful of rules and give reasons for each of them. But that is rather rare—about as often as God gave the Ten Commandments. More frequently parents give their children a particular outlook on life, sometimes by passing on a favorite adage, other times by making a passing remark approving or disapproving a behavior, and still other times by choosing a particular pattern of behavior for themselves.
I think, for example, of my own upbringing. I can recall only one time when either of my parents made a big speech about illegal drug use. My dad had just served as a juror at a trial of a man who had messed up his life with narcotics. My dad didn’t divulge any of the particulars, but he did comment on the tragedy of the situation and said that he hoped that we would learn from other people’s mistakes. But despite hearing very little about the topic, I never considered using drugs. Why? The ethical system I learned from my parents didn’t come only from their explicit statements on a particular topic, but from their whole philosophy of life as revealed in several ways. In fact, I can go so far as to say that if my dad had never broached the subject, I would still know that my parents disapproved of illegal drugs. I saw it in the way that they honored and obeyed the laws of our country. I saw it in the way that they didn’t believe that life was meant to be a pursuit of one heady experience after another. They were responsible and content. They believed that hard work was a form of pleasure. Using narcotics would go against every aspect of that philosophy.
The school where I attended tried a different approach. On the one hand, we spent a week or two in ninth grade P.E. being warned about the effects of various drugs (including legal ones such as alcohol). On the other hand, this instruction was being given in the late 70’s when youth were still expected to experiment with substances legal and illegal and when parents and teachers were generally permissive about such things, if not indulging in them themselves. At best I would have gotten mixed signals from those at school: the main problem with drugs was their nasty side effects; as long as they could be minimized or if a new drug could be invented without them (such as Ecstasy claimed to be in the 90’s), it would be all right to use it.
The advantage of my parents’ approach is that they didn’t have to change their instruction every time a new drug was invented. They had conveyed a philosophy of life explicitly and implicitly, and I was able to extrapolate from it to new circumstances. And that is also the advantage of the way the Scriptures teach ethics. They don’t have to state explicitly what is right and wrong on every topic in order to have a coherent ethical framework that can be applied to all sorts of topics, even to issues that couldn’t have been envisioned in the day when the Scriptures were being written. Of course, that means that we have to be willing to pay close attention to the beliefs, values, and attitudes inculcated by the Scriptures if we want to understand fully its ethical system and apply it to today’s issues. It is harder work than simply picking up and reading a treatise by Aristotle or Kant, but it is more rewarding, too.
© 2010 James A. Kellerman
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