Posts tagged ‘Morality’
The Endurance of Ethics
I’m not quite sure if she really believes what she wrote, or if she is just trying to make a name for herself.
When a Montana high school teacher was found guilty of raping one of his 14-year-old students who, two years later, committed suicide, the judge in the case shocked the victim’s family and all those following the trial when he handed down a sentence of a paltry thirty days in prison. The outrage was quick and hot. “I don’t believe in justice anymore,” the victim’s mother said in a statement. “She wasn’t even old enough to get a driver’s license.” A protest organizer against the judge’s verdict noted, “Judges should be protecting our most vulnerable children … not enabling rapists by placing blame on victims.”[1] It seemed the public disdain for what had transpired – both in the relationship between the teacher and his student and in the sentence that was passed down – was universal.
Except that it wasn’t.
Leave it to Betsy Karasik of the Washington Post to outline – and incite outrage with – an alternative view:
As protesters decry the leniency of Rambold’s sentence – he will spend 30 days in prison after pleading guilty to raping 14-year-old Cherice Morales, who committed suicide at age 16 – I find myself troubled for the opposite reason. I don’t believe that all sexual conduct between underage students and teachers should necessarily be classified as rape, and I believe that absent extenuating circumstances, consensual sexual activity between teachers and students should not be criminalized … There is a vast and extremely nuanced continuum of sexual interactions involving teachers and students, ranging from flirtation to mutual lust to harassment to predatory behavior. Painting all of these behaviors with the same brush sends a damaging message to students and sets the stage for hypocrisy and distortion of the truth.[2]
As I noted at the beginning of this post, I’m not quite sure if Karasik really believes what she wrote, or if she is just trying to make a name for herself. If it’s the latter, she has certainly succeeded. Her words have caused a big stir, as a perusal of the Washington Post’s comments section will readily reveal. Words like “disgusting,” “sick,” and “ridiculous” pepper the comments section of her article.
So why all the outrage over a woman who argues for the legality of teacher-student sexual relations? The answer is traditional ethics. And, more specifically, traditional sexual ethics. In a culture that sanctions all sorts of sexual shenanigans, our ethical compass on statutory rape stands strong. And this is good – not only for the victims of these crimes, but for society at large. Though I do not always agree with the way in which some express outrage at immorality, it is nevertheless important to note how our society’s occasional bursts of ethical outrage indicate that, despite our culture’s best attempts at relativizing and minimizing all sorts of ethical standards, traditional ethical standards just won’t die. They are here to stay.
The nihilist philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche famously sought to replace traditional ethical standards with one ethical standard – that of power. “What is good?” Nietzsche asked, “All that heightens the feeling of power in man, the will to power, power itself. What is bad? All that is born of weakness. What is happiness? The feeling that power is growing, that resistance is overcome.”[3] For Nietzsche, traditional notions of good and evil, right and wrong, needed to be discarded in favor of whatever gained a person the most power. This is why Nietzsche so vehemently railed against Christianity. He regarded Christianity as the font and foundation of a fundamentally broken ethic that favored servility over supremacy. Nietzsche wrote of Christianity:
I regard Christianity as the most fatal and seductive lie that has ever yet existed – as the greatest and most impious lie: I can discern the last sprouts and branches of its ideal beneath every form of disguise, I decline to enter into any compromise or false position in reference to it – I urge people to declare open war with it.[4]
According to Nietzsche, Christianity’s ethics had to be destroyed so an ethic of power might prevail. But here’s the funny thing about Nietzsche’s quest to destroy Christian ethics: in his quest to destroy Christian ethics, he appeals to a Christian ethic – that of truthfulness. He calls Christianity a “fatal and seductive lie.” Using Nietzsche’s own ethical standard, I am compelled to ask, “So what? If this fatal and seductive lie has led to the ascendency of Christian power, and power is the ultimate good, what’s the problem?”
Yes, traditional ethics – even in a Nietzschean nihilist worldview – stubbornly rear their heads. Yes, traditional ethics – even in our sexually saturated civilization – continue to inform our moral outrages. Traditional ethics just won’t die.
But why won’t they die, despite our most valiant efforts to vanquish them?
Maybe, just maybe, it’s because traditional ethics are true. And maybe, just maybe, truth has a pull on the human heart that can be clouded by lies of relativism and nihilism, but never eclipsed. And for that, I thank God.
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5).
[1] Christine Mai-Duc, “Judge in rape case criticized for light sentence, remarks about victim,” Los Angeles Times (8.28.2013).
[2] Betsy Karasik, “The unintended consequences of laws addressing sex between teachers and students,” Washington Post (8.30.2013).
[3] Friedrich Nietzsche, The Antichrist, H.L. Mencken, trans. (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1920), 42-43.
[4] Friedrich Nietzsche, The Will To Power, 2 vols., Anthony M. Ludovici, trans. (Digireads.com Publishing, 2010), 82.
Millennial Morality: Thoughts On A Generation’s Thoughts On Christianity
Last weekend, popular blogger Rachel Held Evans, writing for CNN, offered an account of why she thinks those in the millennial generation are leaving the Church. Her comments are worth quoting at length:
Armed with the latest surveys, along with personal testimonies from friends and readers, I explain how young adults perceive evangelical Christianity to be too political, too exclusive, old-fashioned, unconcerned with social justice and hostile to lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people.
I point to research that shows young evangelicals often feel they have to choose between their intellectual integrity and their faith, between science and Christianity, between compassion and holiness.
I talk about how the evangelical obsession with sex can make Christian living seem like little more than sticking to a list of rules, and how millennials long for faith communities in which they are safe asking tough questions and wrestling with doubt.[1]
Rachel Held Evans certainly has her finger on the pulse of contemporary culture. Research does indeed show that millennials describe Christianity as “too political, too exclusive, old-fashioned, unconcerned with social justice and hostile to lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people.” In other words, many millennials view traditional Christian teachings as repressive and regressive. What Rachel fails to ask, however, is, “Does this popularly held perception of Christianity match its reality?”
There’s a whole army of research out there about how people feel about Christianity. But what about the research that reveals what is actually being preached and taught from Christian pulpits? How many sermons on politics are actually preached week in and week out? How about sermons on sex? How about sermons that are openly hostile to lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people? Here, the research becomes much more scant. And, I suspect, the sermons themselves might just be much more scant as well.
Now, I know it’s not hard to skew popular perceptions of what the Christian Church is all about. After all, it’s usually not the sermon on John 3 and God loving the world that makes the rounds on YouTube; it’s the sermon on Leviticus 20 with the sweaty pastor yelling about the abominations of sodomy that gets 500,000 views.
Still, I can’t help but wonder if the objections that many millennials have to some of the teachings of Christianity aren’t so much objections as they are excuses. In other words, the reason many millennials object to particular Christian tenets is not because they are “too political, too exclusive, old-fashioned, unconcerned with social justice and hostile to lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people”; it is because they simply don’t like parts of what Christianity teaches. So they accuse Christians of absolutism so they can live in libertinism. Nathan Hitchen explains it like this: “When people don’t want to believe something, they ask themselves, ‘Must I believe this?’ and then search for contrary evidence until they find a single reason to doubt the claim and dismiss it.”[2] In other words, they find that YouTube video with the sweaty, yelling pastor and say, “No way.”
From a theological perspective, C.S. Lewis offers keen insight into the objectionable character of Christian morality:
Christ did not come to preach any brand new morality … Really great moral teachers never do introduce new moralities: it is quacks and cranks who do that. As Dr. Johnson said, “People need to be reminded more often than they need to be instructed.” The real job of every moral teacher is to keep on bringing us back, time after time, to the old simple principles which we are all so anxious not to see; like bringing a horse back to the fence it has refused to jump or bringing a child back to the bit in its lesson that it wants to shirk.[3]
C.S. Lewis minces no words about how tough the task of teaching Christian morality really is. It’s tough because the “old simple principles” of morality are ones “which we are all so anxious not to see.” Yet, Jesus, as a teacher of morality, among other things, preached these “old simple principles.” Of course, such preaching didn’t make Him popular or unobjectionable. It got Him killed.
So perhaps popularity is not in the cards for Christianity. This should not come as a surprise. It wasn’t in the cards for Jesus. And yet, as Rachel Held Evans finally notes in her CNN article, “Like every generation before ours and every generation after, deep down, we long for Jesus.” Maybe that’s because, deep down, even if our depravity rebels against it, something keeps telling us Jesus is right. And if Jesus is right, that means He can make us right with God.
That’s our message as Christians. And I, for one, intend to keep sharing it.
[1] Rachel Held Evans, “Why millennials are leaving the church,” cnn.com (7.27.2013).
[2] Nathan Hitchen, “Marriage Counter-Messaging: An Action Plan” (The John Jay Institute: 2013), 4.
[3] C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1952), 64.
The Downfall of DOMA
The headline was welcomed with both cheers and tears: “Supreme Court strikes down Defense of Marriage Act.”[1] For some, this ruling was a welcomed vindication – and indication that the argument for same-sex marriage had not only won the day in the Supreme Court, but in the court of public opinion. Others were saddened and even embittered. Former Arkansas Governor and presidential candidate Mike Huckabee tweeted: “My thoughts on the SCOTUS ruling that determined that same sex marriage is okay: ‘Jesus wept.’”[2]
So how is a Christian to respond to this ruling? There are two things I believe that are paramount to any Christian’s response.
The first is humility. Responding with bravado – either for or against this ruling – is not helpful. Whether it be the raucous celebrations of many of this ruling’s supporters or the vitriolic denouncements of many of this ruling’s detractors, anything less than a humble and gentle spirit leads to combat rather than conversation. And as I have written elsewhere, simply trying to win against each other rather than listening to each other means that no matter who supposedly “wins,” everybody loses.[3]
The second thing needed is honesty. Christians need not compromise moral conviction when it comes to human sexuality. We simply must hold to our convictions humbly rather than haughtily. The biblical moral vision for human sexuality is clear: sexual intimacy is to be reserved for a husband and wife in the lifelong covenant of marriage (cf. Genesis 2:24-25). Deviations from this – be they fornication, adultery, or homosexuality – are prohibited by Holy Writ. It’s okay to say this. It’s okay to stand up for this. It’s okay to make a moral pronouncement on marriage.
Indeed, as I have thought through the court’s ruling on DOMA, I find Justice Kennedy’s majority opinion to have far reaching moral implications:
The avowed purpose and practical effect of the law here in question are to impose a disadvantage, a separate status, and so a stigma upon all who enter into same-sex marriages made lawful by the unquestioned authority of the States.
The history of DOMA’s enactment and its own text demonstrate that interference with the equal dignity of same-sex marriages, a dignity conferred by the States in the exercise of their sovereign power, was more than an incidental effect of the federal statute. It was its essence. The House Report announced its conclusion that “it is both appropriate and necessary for Congress to do what it can to defend the institution of traditional heterosexual marriage. … H. R. 3396 is appropriately entitled the ‘Defense of Marriage Act.’ The effort to redefine ‘marriage’ to extend to homosexual couples is a truly radical proposal that would fundamentally alter the institution of marriage.”… The House concluded that DOMA expresses “both moral disapproval of homosexuality, and a moral conviction that heterosexuality better comports with traditional (especially Judeo-Christian) morality.” … The stated purpose of the law was to promote an “interest in protecting the traditional moral teachings reflected in heterosexual-only marriage laws.”[4]
In Justice Kennedy’s opinion, DOMA was drafted and passed into law with the express purpose of interfering “with the dignity of same-sex marriages.” How does he know this? Because DOMA demonstrates “both moral disapproval of homosexuality, and a moral conviction that heterosexuality better comports with traditional (especially Judeo-Christian) morality.” In other words, Justice Kennedy claims that the Judeo-Christian morality in which DOMA is grounded diminishes the dignity of same-sex marriages. Such a diminishment cannot be tolerated. It is, in a word, illegal. This is why DOMA must be overturned.
The duty of the Supreme Court justices is to render legal decisions. But every legal decision carries with it an indissoluble moral component. In this instance, this legal decision’s moral component is in the declaration that a law based on the Judeo-Christian sexual moral standard is discriminatory and illegal. Such a pronouncement replaces the Judeo-Christian sexual moral standard with a sexual moral standard of its own – one that is open to same-sex marriage while still, interestingly enough, discriminating against other forms of marriage (e.g., polygamy). Thus, what Justice Kennedy and the Supreme Court majority have done is issued not only a legal opinion, but a moral valuation.
Laws are irreducibly moral. Laws against murder or perjury or theft inevitably promote some vision of what morality is and means. Thus, even the justices of the Supreme Court cannot render a strictly amoral legal verdict on whether or not to federally recognize same-sex marriages. What they declare on this issue will always, in some way, involve judgments of and on morality. The question we must ask ourselves is, “Is the morality of the Supreme Court majority the right morality?”
Justice Kennedy has given his answer. What’s yours?
[1] Pete Williams & Erin McClam, “Supreme Court strikes down Defense of Marriage Act, paves way for gay marriage to resume in California,” NBCNews.com (6.26.2013).
[2] Mike Huckabee, twitter.com/govmikehuckabee (6.26.2013).
[3] Zach McIntosh, “The State Of Our Public Debate: Same-Sex Marriage As A Test Case,” zachmcintosh.com (4.8.2013).
[4] United States v. Windsor, 570 U. S. 1 (2013).



It’s All Relative
Nearly everybody cheats, but usually only a little…That’s because most of us think we are pretty wonderful. We can cheat a little and still keep that “good person” identity. Most people won’t cheat so much that it makes it harder to feel good about themselves.
The basis for Brooks’ thesis is a new book by Dan Ariely, a professor of psychology at Duke University, titled The (Honest) Truth About Dishonesty. Through a series of surprisingly creative studies, Ariely finds that people are disturbingly comfortable bending moral standards to suit their own purposes…as long as they don’t bend them too much. For instance, for the purposes of his book, Ariely asked a blind and a sighted colleague to take several taxi rides. The drivers happily cheated the sighted client by taking longer routes in order to rack up higher fares. They did not, however, cheat the blind client nearly as often because of the stinging psychological guilt associated with cheating a blind person.
Brooks summarizes Ariely’s findings:
For the past several centuries, most Westerners would have identified themselves fundamentally as Depraved Sinners. In this construct, sin is something you fight like a recurring cancer – part of a daily battle against evil.
But these days, people are more likely to believe in their essential goodness. People who live by the Good Person Construct try to balance their virtuous self-image with their selfish desires. They try to manage the moral plusses and minuses and keep their overall record in positive territory. In this construct, moral life is more like dieting: I give myself permission to have a few cookies because I had salads for lunch and dinner. I give myself permission to cheat a little because, when I look at my overall life, I see that I’m still a good person.
The Good Person isn’t shooting for perfection any more than most dieters are following their diet 100 percent. It’s enough to be workably suboptimal, a tolerant, harmless sinner and a generally good guy.
Brooks and Ariely assert that when it comes to our modern moral reckonings, most people assume close is good enough. But are Brooks and Ariely right in their analysis?
One of the bad habits I have is reading what commenters post at the bottom of online articles. These comments range from the insightful to the mundane to the paranoid to the bellicose. Nevertheless, the reason I read these commenters – as maddening as they can sometimes be – is because they give me a sense of our society’s zeitgeist. It is with this in mind that I had to chuckle at the top comment, as chosen by The New York Times, on David Brooks’ piece:
Most people in the world today are just trying to survive. A billion people don’t have access to clean water. In America, we see people who destroyed the economy not prosecuted. We see soldiers fight in far off lands, many coming home damaged for life. We see corporations allowed to buy elections. Millions of dollars are thrown away on tawdry campaign commercials that only enrich the coffers of media companies.
There is so much angst in the world today, and Mr. Brooks thinks we should worry about stealing office supplies, or eating an extra cookie.
Thank you for proving Mr. Brooks’ point, kind commenter. Notice how this commenter gauges morality. There are big moral issues – things like dirty drinking water, crimes left unprosecuted, physically and emotionally wounded soldiers, and corporate corruption – and there are small moral issues – things like stealing office supplies or eating an extra cookie. Who has time to sweat the small stuff when there are bigger fish to fry?
But notice the subversive self-aggrandizement that undergirds this commenter’s response. For all of the immoral injustices this commenter identifies are “out there.” Immorality resides in greedy politicians and corrupt corporations, not in people who casually comment on New York Times pieces. This commenter intimates his own morality by decrying others’ immorality. He implies his own relative goodness by opining about the macro-moral problems of our world while jettisoning the micro-moral failings of his life. He seems to believe, to use Brooks’ language, in his own “essential goodness.”
All this is not to say our macro-moral problems are somehow unimportant. They are vitally important. But our micro-moral problems matter too. Why? Because there is no macro-immorality problem in our world that did not begin as a micro-immorality problem in a life. Big injustices begin one person and one decision at a time. Just ask Adam and Eve.
David Brooks concludes his column with a sage warning: “We’re mostly unqualified to judge our own moral performances, so attach yourself to some exterior or social standards.” Brooks is almost right. An exterior standard is indeed necessary to gauge human morality in any sort of meaningful way. But I would argue that this exterior standard should not be a social one. For social standards, though they might be relatively external to us, are not absolutely external to us, because they are based on the collective consensus of human societies – you and me. Thus, even morality guided by social standards ultimately collapses into an internal moral narcissism. Only God is absolutely external. Therefore, in the Christian view, only God can serve as humanity’s enduring moral compass. Only God can judge our moral performances for what they truly are. Is it any wonder the preacher of Hebrews declares of the Lord, “‘It is mine to avenge; I will repay,’ and again, ‘The Lord will judge His people’” (Hebrews 10:30)?
Our modern moral mores decry judging other people’s morality. Christianity decries this too (cf. Matthew 7:1-2). But Christianity takes it a step further. For Christianity not only prohibits judging other people’s morality, it also prohibits judging our own morality. Christianity teaches that we are so morally depraved, we can do nothing less than judge ourselves with a foolhardy rose-colored ethical optimism. In other words, we dupe ourselves into believing we are better than we really are. This is why it is God’s job to adjudicate morality – all morality…our morality. And we are called to listen, follow, and believe God’s verdict on morality – all morality…our morality.
[1] David Brooks, “The Moral Diet,” The New York Times (6.7.2012).
June 18, 2012 at 5:15 am Leave a comment