ETHICAL DILEMMAS

On a post last autumn, (WHY I VOTE THE WAY I DO), I mentioned the possibility of having to choose "the lesser of two evils."  This idea was criticized as simply another way of saying that "the end justifies the means."

Also in some correspondence concerning the hate speech of Christians who hold certain political views, I was given the excuse that "most believers in America today" have a "dilemma" concerning the direction their country is headed.

I had written out some thoughts on these matters but never posted them.  And then a recent post by my friend Canadian Atheist spoke of an ethical dilemma he had about eating meat.  This brought to mind my previous musings so I figured I might as well post them.

A dilemma is a choice we have to make, but don't want to, especially when either alternative is undesirable.  When I speak of an ethical (or moral) dilemma, I have in mind a situation in which one is confronted with only two apparent alternatives, either of which would involve sin.

Most of us are, at some time or another, faced with genuine ethical dilemmas, but we should be careful not to see every difficult decision as a dilemma.  The following are not ethical dilemmas:

·       A decision between two goods.  The decision of how to behave in such a situation must be made on the basis of wisdom and sometimes simply personal preference.

·       A decision between good and evil.  That is what's known as temptation.  Many of the "dilemmas" presented in our popular culture -- fiction, movies, country songs -- are just that.

·       A choice of "let us do evil that good may come" (Romans 3:8), of choosing a wrong act to achieve a good end -- i.e., "the end justifies the means."

What is an ethical dilemma then?  It is when I am faced with a situation in which whatever action I choose, I will be doing wrong.  The classic example:

Suppose I live in Nazi Germany.  I have Jews hidden in my house.  The Gestapo knock on my door and inquire if there are any Jews hidden inside.  Do I tell them the truth and allow innocent people to be condemned (which would be a sin of omission on my part), or do I simply lie (which would also be a sin) in order to protect the innocent?

I suspect that most would say "No problem, just lie."  But how do I really determine what to do in such a dilemma?

Those of us who look to the Scripture as our guide for making moral choices may be frustrated when we look at the cases mentioned there.

One of the situations usually noted is the case of the Hebrew midwives who lied to Pharaoh to save the lives of the Hebrew baby boys and were apparently rewarded by God for this act (Exodus 1:15-21).  However, it should be noted that the lie itself is not commended, but their fear of God (verses 17, 21) and undoubtedly their refusal to comply with Pharaoh's order.

Another case is Rahab who hid the Hebrew spies and lied to their pursuers to save their lives (Joshua 2, especially verses 3-5).  She also was rewarded by having her life and the life of her family spared (Joshua 6:25).  Though the text does not say God rewarded her, the New Testament does commend her, especially for her faith (Hebrews 11:31; James 2:25).  Again it should be noted that the lie itself was not commended, but her faith which led to action.

There were other dilemmas in the Bible, such as Jephthah’s rash vow which led to the sacrifice of his daughter (Judges 11:30, 31, 34-40) and Herod Antipas’ rash vow which led to the death of John the Baptist (Mark 6:22-28).  In both cases there was a decision between breaking a vow and taking an innocent human life.  In neither case is the decision to keep the vow commended or condemned.  As often in the Bible, the actions are merely reported without any moral pronouncement being made.  We should be careful not to make an "ought" out of every action reported in the Scripture.

Before we go any further, I believe something should be said about the view that has been described as "unqualified absolutism," (a view held by some Christians) whose basic premise is that all moral conflicts are only apparent and not real. This view boils down to just two or three errors:

·       The error that the “way of escape” of 1 Corinthians 10:13 means that there will always be a “third alternative.”  The way of escape is given “that we may be able to bear” the test, not avoid it.  Sometimes what seems to be faith may simply be presumption.  In the cases of Rahab and the Hebrew midwives, even if there might have been a “third alternative,” they are not faulted for not taking it.

·       The error that “all real moral conflicts are brought on by a person’s prior sin(s).”   While some of them may be, not all are.  And even so, the individual is still faced with a real moral dilemma.

·       The tendency to rationalize sin as not being sin.  Two of the biblical cases mentioned above involved deception.  To argue that a deliberate deception is not a lie if somehow phrased in truthful terms, is casuistry.  This would get Satan off the hook for his lie to Eve (Genesis 3:5, 6).

 

So it seems obvious that we many times may be forced to make a choice between two evils.  How do we determine?  I believe the following thoughts may be of help.  At least they have for me.

·       Sin is always sin.  Lying is always sin, even if it is chosen rather than the alternative.

·       There is a gradation of higher and lower moral laws.  Some sins are worse than others.  Jesus' reply to Pilate in John 19:11 would appear to indicate this:  "You would have no authority over me unless it had been given to you from above.  Because of this, the one who handed me over to you has the greater sin."

·       Though we may choose "the lesser evil," God while regarding this act as an evil, apparently does not in this case impute guilt to the sinner.  Apparently "extenuating circumstances" are considered.

How do we determine which choice to make when confronted with an ethical dilemma?  Ethicists, both Christian and non-Christian, have discussed this question for centuries and it seems that when someone comes up with a formula for determining, a new dilemma shows up that does not fit the formula.  So, though many criteria have been suggested, I'll suggest one that I believe is biblical.  It is love, the simple choice of others over self.

This won't solve all our dilemmas, but it should be of help in many.  It would mean that I must make a choice that would benefit others more than myself.  It could mean that I would bear the harsher consequences.

Our big problem is that often these dilemmas do not allow us time to meditate and ponder both sides of the matter, as in our voting practice.  Rather, they come on us instantly -- maybe not the Nazis at the door, but in other ways.  It is then that we must make a decision based on the working of the Spirit in bringing to our minds what are the right choices.

[NOTE:  Many of these thoughts are taken from my notes for a biblical ethics class I taught at the College of Biblical Studies in Houston in 2005.]

AN OUTLAW FOR JESUS

I've been reading a biography of William Tyndale, (Book of Fire by Brian Moynahan) that I picked up cheap at the Half Price Bookstore.  Though I was already familiar with his story and his place in the history of England and the English Church, I took the opportunity of getting a fresh look.  Tyndale was a man used by God to bring many to Himself and to change history.

Tyndale was a 16th century scholar and one of the first to translate the entire Bible, Old and New Testaments into the English language.  He had an advantage over his predecessors such as John Wycliffe, in that there was a new technology available -- the printing press.

But William Tyndale was an outlaw -- a wanted man who would eventually pay with his life for his "crimes."  He was a smuggler.  His English Bibles were outlawed in his native country.  He had to have them printed in continental Europe and taken by whatever means available into England where they were received as contraband, almost as illegal drugs would be received today.

Some background:  The Roman Catholic Church in England, as in most of Europe, had held absolute control over everyone for 1,000 years.  It was in league with the government and did not allow for dissent.  The Bible of the Church was the Latin Vulgate -- a translation a thousand years old -- and unreadable not only by the illiterate masses, but even by many in the priesthood.  And apparently the Church hierarchy liked it that way.  The Church of the middle ages had developed into a complex hierarchy, a priestly system that controlled the people and kept them in ignorance of the simplicity of the gospel of Christ and bound to a complex religious scheme.  Very few knew or understood what the New Testament actually taught.

However, a few in England, as well as in other parts of Europe, had begun to dissent from standard Church teaching and practice and recognized there was something better.  Before Tyndale's day, John Wycliffe and others had opened up minds to the Scripture.  In Bohemia, John Huss had followed Wycliffe and brought the Bible to the people of his nation.  And, of course, by the time Tyndale appeared on the scene, Germany had split over the teachings of Martin Luther.

These revolutionary events occurred because people -- common people -- were reading the Bible for themselves.  And the disagreements were not over minor points.  What people were discovering was that salvation was not through a church system but through simple faith in Jesus Christ and His death on the cross.

But Tyndale's Bible not only showed the people of England the simplicity of salvation, it posed a threat to the powers-that-be.  Even the words that he used were revolutionary.  For instance:

He translated the Greek EKKLESIA as "congregation" rather than "church," in a sense transferring authority from the hierarchy to the people.

PRESBUTEROS became "elder" or "senior," instead of "priest," again striking at the hierarchy.

METANOEŌ became simply "repent," rather than "do penance" threatening what Moynahan refers to as the "huge vested interest in the lucrative penitential industry of pardons and indulgences" (page 72).

I believe that the great threat that the reading of the Bible had toward the church of Tyndale's day was not only or even necessarily doctrinal -- a disagreement over how one could be saved -- but a threat to the very power structures of the church.  If the Church did not hold sway over the people by being dispensers of salvation, it lost its base of power.  The personal powers and wealth of priests, bishops, even the pope, were threatened.  So Church and state united to suppress the English Bible.

But the gospel spread in Roman Catholic England, as it had in the pagan Roman Empire in the first centuries, as it has in Atheist China in the last 75 years, as it often does when the authorities attempt to stifle it.

Within a few decades, the power of the Roman Catholic Church in England was broken.  However, the "Church" was still in power, united with the state; only now it was the Church of England.  Later English history records the back and forth movements of the church, depending on the religious background or preference of whoever was in power.  Catholics, Anglicans, Puritans, all took their turns at power, with wars and slaughters following.  And, of course, all of this spilled over into the New World.

Though I can rejoice over the "triumph" of Tyndale's gospel in England, is this what it's all about?  There are those in America today who claim to be followers of Christ who seem to think so.  They bemoan America's "slide into Sodom"'; they fear the "secularization" of America.  They want to see America "return to its Christian values."  They attach themselves to political dreams and would outlaw, or at least restrict (their ideas of) improper behavior.  But history has demonstrated over and over that the closer the church's well being is tied to political power -- secular or religious -- the weaker its spiritual power.

I am not concerned that the American church of today will ever attempt to bring back the tactics of the English church of Tyndale's day.  We've come a bit far since then.  And I have little fear that my faith and practice will become against the law.  I do fear, however, that there are those in the church who would exchange the gospel and its practice for power and control.

Jesus told his disciples, "The kings of the nations lord it over them, and those in authority are called benefactors.  But it's not so with you ..." (Luke 22:25, 26a).  When will we understand this?  When will we get back to the radical Christianity of Tyndale?  Or of Jesus?

KICKER DANCIN' WITH JESUS

When Uni and I lived in Texas, we used to occasionally go out Country and Western dancing (or Kicker Dancin', as it is sometimes known).  We'd put on our boots and jeans and head out to some well-known (or not so well-known) night spot.  We'd do two-steps, waltzes, swing and even an occasional polka.  We were not very good at it but had a lot of fun.  We worked pretty well as a team, but there was one occasional area of conflict.

Uni:  "WHAT are you doing??"

Me:  "I'm LEADING!"

Now a crowded Texas dance floor can be a pretty "dangerous" place.  People often kick up their heels without concern as to who around them they may be kicking, and many of them have had a bit too much to drink.  Navigating a pathway through this mass requires a certain bit of skill, and that task appears to be the responsibility of the male dance partner - in this case, me.

But the female partner -- Uni -- is often at a loss as to what is going on; she has to move backwards blindly through this danger zone.  She has to trust her partner!

A common metaphor used in the New Testament is the church -- believers -- as the bride of Christ.  To extend the analogy, we take the female role with Christ as our Bridegroom.  Many have also compared the Christian life to a dance.  If I may combine the two analogies, then I as a believer take the female role with Jesus as my male dance partner, and He is the one who leads, through His Word and His Spirit.

And life is like that crowded Texas dance floor.  It can be at times difficult to navigate.  We move through as smoothly as we can, following the music, led by our Bridegroom who can see what we can't.  Sometimes we're forced to make quick turns or even change direction.  Sometimes we have to stop and simply dance in place.  We have to trust His lead.

And we too, often question His leading.  We often ask Him what on earth He's doing.  But hopefully we're learning that He knows where He's leading us.

As I said, we're not very good at it, and I have sometimes led Uni in the wrong direction; sometimes we get out of step with each other.  There've been bumps, stumbles and even the occasional fall.

But we can trust Jesus; He never fails to lead us in the right direction.  All we have to do is follow!

ON MY BUS?

My friend Ken Mullins posed this question on Facebook:  "Did God ever put a Rosa Parks on your bus?"

After questioning Ken as to what was meant and discussing it with Uni, the wheels in my head got turning.  (Please forgive me for over-thinking.)

My first thoughts were of the time in the summer of 1955, when I and some of my fellow (white) Marine Reservists from Michigan boarded a bus in South Carolina to go to town and sat in the far back.  We noticed the bus driver was upset with us, especially when a black lady got on, but we were not, to our thinking, doing anything unusual.  We were simply doing what we'd always done in Michigan.  In fact, we thought the whole incident rather humorous.  (It wasn't.)

When I read Ken's question aloud, Uni almost immediately responded "Keith."  Keith was a young man with AIDS, I'd met back in 1989, and brought to the church I was pastoring (See:  MY FRIEND.), without considering the possible negative consequences.  And there were some.

A bit of background for those who may be unfamiliar with the story behind Ken's question:

Montgomery, Alabama on December 1, 1955 was deeply segregated.  Most African-Americans "knew their place" and went along with the Jim Crow laws which regarded them as second-class citizens.  However, on this day, Mrs. Rosa Parks, a quiet, middle-aged black lady did a radical thing:  she refused to give up her seat on the bus when a white man boarded - as the law required her to do.  Three others had given up theirs, as African-Americans were not even allowed to sit parallel with whites.

When J. F. Blake, the bus driver said, "Look woman, I told you I wanted the seat.  Are you going to stand up?"  Mrs. Parks simply and calmly replied, "No."  After further threats and refusal, Blake got off the bus and phoned the police, who came and arrested Mrs. Parks.  During the interval before their arrival, passengers began leaving the bus.  Blake pressed charges. 

Thus began the Montgomery bus boycott, which triggered the Civil Rights' Movement and brought to the forefront a young African American preacher named Martin Luther King, Jr.  (See:  David J. Garrow, Bearing the Cross.) 

Many possible implications in Ken's question crossed my mind.

·       Have I ever been, as the bus driver, an unwitting agent in a history changing  incident?

·       Have I ever been, as the bus driver, more concerned about the enforcement of an unjust law, than with the fact that I was dealing with real people?  (I recognize that there would have been negative consequences for him, had he not taken the actions he did.)

·       Have I ever been, as that unnamed white man, willing to see another person humiliated, simply for my own comfort?

·       Have I ever done as those other three black persons, complying with an unjust law, simply to avoid conflict or even possible real trouble?

·       Or have I, unlike that bus driver and the other passengers, been willing to take a stand against injustice and side with those like Rosa Parks?

I guess I'd have to say yes to Ken's question: God has done this to me many times.  There probably have been times I've been totally oblivious to what was going on around me.  There've been times when I simply "got off the bus" to avoid personal inconvenience, or when I've "taken my place" to avoid negative consequences.  And there've been a few times when I actually did the right thing.

I wonder what Jesus would have done if He'd been on that bus?  Maybe He was!  I pray that I would do what Jesus would have done.

Anyway, thanx Ken, for stirring up my thinking!