Ethics and Moarlity, pt III

In the last portion of this study, I discussed our need for a moral authority with which to enforce our own moral code. However, the problem that presents itself to us is: How dow we determine which moral authority is the best?

There are two essential tests for a moral authority:

1. The moral authority must always rule in favor of our best intersets (not based on what we think is right or what is best for something else, but what truly is right and best for us)

2. The moral authority must act consistently with the code which it enforces.

The tests come out of a simple understanding of reality. If we are to submit to an authority for whatever purpose, we must know that this authority acts with the best interests of ourselves (or the cause to which we are committed) at all times. As anyone knows, if someone does not trust an authority, they will not submit to it. Second, it is hard to accept the authority of a person or governing system which does not operate consistently with the code which it is designed to enforce. For example, a government which denies the freedom of speech to certain members of society hardly has the authority to enforce the ideal of freedom of speech for all.

Thus, these two tests must be clearly passed if one is to consider an authority worthy of enforcing a moral code.

Look at some of the systems examined in the previous installment. Some consider nature their moral authority. In one sense, that means whatever is best for planet earth is best for us (it is, after all, our environment). So, if Mother Nature is our moral authority, we can say "she" is consistent with an environmentalist's moral code, but does that mean "she" has the environmentalist's best interests at heart? Of course not. Mother Nature has no one's interests at heart. In the most real sense, "Mother Nature" is nothing more than the collective of natural laws which, from an evolutionary standpoint, has no particular purpose or goal, certainly not the continued survival of society or mankind.

You can look at all the other authorities one may choose and find that while they may satisfy one (or in a limited way) both of these tests, one cannot take the moral codes that are dictated by world religions, environmentalism, or capitalism, and apply them dogmatically and absolutely to every facet of human existence. In some way, every one of these will fall short somehow, somewhere.

But how does Christianity measure up? That is, not the instituion of Christian religion, but the God who stands at it's core? If we are to hold up the God of Christianity to these tests, how does He fare?

See Deuteronomy 7:7,8:

"7 The LORD did not set his affection on you and choose you because you were more numerous than other peoples, for you were the fewest of all peoples. 8 But it was because the LORD loved you and kept the oath he swore to your forefathers that he brought you out with a mighty hand and redeemed you from the land of slavery, from the power of Pharaoh king of Egypt."

The Bible tells us that God chose Israel not on the basis of any one person's merit, but simply because He loved them. Here the doctrine of undeserved love immediately separates Christianity (and really, the heart of Judaism) from every other world religion. The love of God is determined by who He is, not what we've done. This means that by default, and without question, God has mankind's best intersets always at heart. By extension we see this passed on to Christians in John 3:16 ("For God so loved the world...")

But is God consistent with the moral code the Bible proposes?

Some would say, "No" and piont to the scenes of violence God condones in the Old Testament (and even some of the judgments in the New Testament) and claim God is capricious and uncaring. But one need only consider the fact that if God made all of Creation, He has a right to do what He pleases. And if God is the author of Creation, then He also establishes it's laws and penalties. So the question remains, is God consistent with the moral code the Bible presents?

"For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 6:23).

The Bible tells us that death is precisely what we deserve, so if one is to say that God is not consistent with His own moral code, it is because He is too loving and gracious (because He has not given us what we deserve), not capricious and unkind (because He has merely passed due judgement on some in history past). Yet even then He remains consistent, for 1 John 4 tells us that God is love and John 14:6 tells us that God (in the form of Jesus Christ) is the truth.

This exposes yet another astounding uniqueness of the Christian faith: God is neither above nor subject to His moral code, He *is* His moral code. He is not above it in that He may disregard it as it suits His purposes (that's caprice), nor is He subject to it, that the Law itself becomes God (that's impotence). Rather, He is the Law - thoroughly consistent and faithful to His moral code (to Himself) in every respect.

"if we are faithless, he will remain faithful, for he cannot disown himself" (2 Tim. 2:13).

In this way, the Christian God establishes His moral authority on the basis that our best interests are always at His heart and that He remains entirely consistent and faithful to the code He enforces, for the code He enforces is the very character of God.

Ethics and Moral Authority

I had a most interesting experience a couple weeks ago...

As a state employee, under the direction of our most ethical governor, Rod Blagojevich, I was required to attend the 2nd Annual Illinois State Government Ethics Seminar at the Thompson Center in downtown Chicago. It proved to be the expected litany of case studies and "What-do-I-do-if-this-happens?" scenarios. Nothing particularly relevant to most state employees.

However, the afternoon session opened with a panel of ethics "experts" (read: lawyers who deal with ethical/legal issues), one of which included Scott Turow, a well-know author of severl best-selling law / thriller novels, as well as a member of the Illinois Ethics Commission.

Anyway, the moderator opened by first asking the question: "What is ethics?"

Illinois' Chief Ethics Officer began by giving her blaise response:

"Ethics is about doing what's right and being fair to people."

However, one particular individual, whom I remember his first name being Matthew, gave a most intelligent answer. He pointed out that ethics carries both a legal and moral component. Case in point, slavery was considered legal for many years in the United States, but that hardly made it moral. Matthew also went on to point out that American law (especially at the foundation of American government) was based largely on the Bible and the idea that God established these laws; therefore, we are to obey them.

I was surprised. I hadn't anticipated such an advanced argument from a panel of lawyers. The moderator didn't challenge Matthew's arguments, but followed his logic with the question:

"So how do we enforce a moral code without appealing to theism?"

I was astounded. Never could a more relevant or pointed question have been asked in an environment that, by nature, was hardly given to asking such questions. This was, after all, a room full of lawyers and engineers employed by the State of Illinois government.

What's fascinating is that while the moderator asked the question quite clearly, it went unanswered. I'm certain if the moderator had given consideration to his question, he'd never have asked it. But the answers forthcoming amounted to little more than, "Well, we know what's right and we have the law and we just have to make the best ethical decisions we can with what we have."

But the question wasn't "How do we make ethical decisions at all?" but "How do we make ethical decisions without appealing to an authoritative higher power?"

The question was ignored and discussion moved on to the more mundane details of case studies and government employee benefits.

So how do we approach this question? I believe the silence of the panel tells the truth: there is no solvent answer. Yet exploring what lies behind the question, I believe, can prove to be most instructive.

Stay tuned for the next post.

Repent!

Those whom I love I reprove and discipline; therefore be zealous and repent.

(Rev. 3:19 – NASB)

What does the word “repent” mean to you? Is it that ecstatic moment when someone finally “sees the light”? Perhaps it’s something reserved for penitent monks. Maybe the word makes you think of some of the more ugly caricatures of Christianity. Whatever the word means to you, it’s something every Christian has heard often enough but not so many really understand. In fact, a review of how the word “repent” is used in the Bible would probably only confuse the matter. To see what I mean, grab a King James Bible and turn to Genesis 6:6:

And it repented the LORD that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him at his heart.

Did you know that in the Old Testament, the majority of the time that repentance is mentioned, it’s God who’s doing the repenting?

This is another one of those verses that can worry Christians. After all, what does this mean? Is God somehow not perfect or sovereign? Is He prone to making mistakes? Really, issues like this are usually easily resolved by simply observing the three C’s of biblical interpretation:

1. Context.
2. Context.
3. Context.

In this case, the problem occurs when we read the New Testament concept of repentance into an Old Testament occurrence. In reality, the Old Testament uses two different Hebrew words for “repent”. One is largely reserved for God regretting or choosing to change His actions (like in Genesis 6:6). The other is reserved for Israel turning from sin and back to God (like in Ezekiel 14:6). To illustrate, when a Christian repents of their sin, a sign they’ve truly repented is that they no longer commit that sin. So in the case of Genesis 6:6, when God repented of making humankind, He should have quit making humankind, right?

In other translations, the verse is better rendered, “God regretted making man”. God didn’t make a mistake, but He took a risk when He gave us a free will. His repentance reflected the risk He took, not the inherent morality of His creating man. I find it especially interesting that when God repented of making man, rather than destroying mankind, He redeemed it. That's something you can't do with sin.

Now let’s take a closer look at the New Testament concept of repentance.

And He began telling this parable: “A man had a fig tree which had been planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and did not find any. And he said to the vineyard-keeper, ‘Behold, for three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree without finding any. Cut it down! Why does it even use up the ground?’

And he answered and said to him, ‘Let it alone, sir, for this year too, until I dig around it and put in fertilizer; and if it bears fruit next year, fine; but if not, cut it down.’

(Luke 13:6-9 – NASB)

Parables are loose allegories. That is, the parable demonstrates a spiritual truth, though not every element necessarily means something. Here’s some questions to ponder:

• Who is the vineyard owner?
  
• Who is the vineyard-keeper?
• Who or what does the tree represent?
• Who or what does the fertilizer represent?

If you’ve followed closely, there should be one big point about repentance that comes out of all of this: True repentance (which leads to salvation) bears good fruit. It's inevitable. However, there seems to be a common misconception that if a Christian repents, God will somehow magically change their lifestyle, habits, and / or behaviors. I won't say that deson't happen, but it's fairly obvious that is not a common reality for most of us. Review the key verse of this study, Revelation 3:19:

Those whom I love I reprove and discipline; therefore be zealous and repent.

The first half of that verse is a warning. The second half is a command. Jesus warns that a Christian will inevitably be convicted of sinful behavior (reproved) and may eventually be made to pay for it (disciplined). Thus, Christians are to “be zealous and repent”.

So, how does one repent zealously (or earnestly)? Does that mean just being really, really, really, really, really sorry for what you’ve done and promising God (cross your heart and hope to die) that you’ll never do it again?

Let me give you an example of what I think it means:

A couple years ago, I changed jobs at my place of employment. It was a big transition for me. One of the things that made the transition especially difficult was one of my new coworkers. I can honestly say that I’ve never met someone with whom I had a serious “personality conflict”. Nevertheless, this was the case with my new coworker - everything he said or did drove me nuts. To make matters worse, I did little to hide my distaste for him and it led to an inevitable (and embarrassing) argument arbitrated by our boss.

It finally sunk in that these things happened because I simply refused to give any ground. Granted, my coworker could have done the same, but in my opinion, the first to recognize the need for compromise is obligated to do it. Anyway, from that point on, I swore I would do what I could to make things run as smoothly as possible. But that was only the first step.

You see, once I “repented” of my bad attitude and realized I needed to do what I could to keep things running smoothly, grinning and bearing my coworker’s abrasive personality wasn’t enough. I had to be aggressive (or zealous) about my repentance. Rather than simply being nice to the guy when he spoke to me, I went out of my way to talk to him. I got to know him more as a person than an annoying coworker and in the end, not only did I actually like my coworker (in spite of his faults), but I even earned the opportunity to witness to him. But it was hard work. Not only did I have to put my pride aside, but I had to go out of my way to be friendly and sociable – not something I’m given to do even with people I like!

The very heart of repentance was summed up succinctly in a lecture by Ravi Zacharias:

Be ruthless with your sin.

Repentance begins an all-out, cut-throat, take-no-prisoners war. Either you master your sin, or it will master you - be it a critical attitude or an addiction to pornography. But don't think that by losing a battle with your sin that you've lost the war. The greater experience in this area says that mastering your sin actually involves avoiding battles, rather than gritting your teeth and trying to win them. In the case of my coworker, by going out of my way to be kind to him, my attitude eventually changed and I won the war simply because I no longer had to battle with the urge to argue with him. In a sense, I won the war by default - no contest.

Remember, this is not about just rejecting sins or trying to avoid sinful behavior. Repentance is an aggressive attack on the sins that enslave us. It’s actively counter-acting the poisonous behaviors that not only keep us from intimacy with God, but also from making a positive impact in the world around us.

Until next week.

Graffy

Shame, Shame

Miriam and Aaron began to speak against Moses because of his Cushite wife, for he had married a Cushite. “Has the Lord spoken only through Moses?” they asked. “Hasn’t he also spoken through us?” And the Lord heard this. (Now Moses was a very humble man, more humble than anyone else on the face of the earth.)

At once the LORD said to Moses, Aaron, and Miriam, “Come out to the Tent of Meeting, all three of you.” So the three of them came out. Then the Lord came down in a pillar of cloud; he stood at the entrance to the Tent and summoned Aaron and Miriam. When both of them stepped forward, he said, “Listen to my words:

“When a prophet of the Lord is among you, I reveal myself to him in visions, I speak to him in dreams.But this is not true of my servant Moses; he is faithful in all my house. With him I speak face to face, clearly and not in riddles; he sees the form of the Lord. Why then were you not afraid to speak against my servant Moses?”

The anger of the Lord burned against them, and he left them.

When the cloud lifted from above the Tent, there stood Miriam – leprous, like snow. Aaron turned toward her and saw that she had leprosy; and he said to Moses, “Please my lord, do not hold against us the sin we have so foolishly committed. Do not let her be like a stillborn infant coming from its mother’s womb with its flesh half eaten away.”

So Moses cried out to the Lord, “O God, please help her!”

The Lord replied to Moses, “If her father had spit in her face, would she not have been disgraced for seven days? Confine her outside the camp for seven days; after that she can be brought back.”

So Miriam was confined outside the camp for seven days, and the people did not move on till she was brought back.

(Numbers 12:1-15; NIV)

One of the most powerful emotions we human beings can feel is shame and it can powerfully influence us and create memories we neither enjoy nor forget.

Questions to consider:

• Have you ever been publicly humiliated? Can you remember the intensity of that emotion? Was there a time in your past when you were so embarassed that it still affects you today?
• Have you ever really embarrassed someone else? Whether or not you felt sorry then, how do you feel about it now? Does your regret of something you've done in the past influence how you see yourself?

Our likes / dislikes are often based on the emotional impact of events in our past. Personally, when I hear someone being loud and obnoxious in a public setting, I get tense - even red-faced. Why? Because I can count more than a few times when I've done that myself - only to later realize how idiotic I was to my firends, family, and the complete strangers around me. On the positive side, whenever I smell coffee, I become more relaxed and conversational. Why? Because some of my favorite conversations have been shared over a cup (or, more often, a pot) of hot coffee. In both cases, a relationship was being affected either negatively or positively. Humans are relational creatures. What makes our happiest or most instensely shameful moments so memorable is how others around us are affected.

While this is a perfectly normal and helpful mechanism for us humans, there are times when it can become unmanageable and even harmful.

Consider the excerpt from Numbers, chapter 12. Moses was publicly embarrassed by his brother and sister before Israel. Miriam and Aaron accused Moses of marrying a woman who was not an Israelite. However, the real issue appears to be one of sibling rivalry - Aaron and Miriam were jealous of Moses' authority as Israel's leader. In any case, as a consequence of their rebellion, God struck Miriam with leprosy. Then Moses begs God for help.

God's response is rather ... odd:

"If her father had spit in her face, would she not have been in disgrace for seven days?"

Yeah. File that one under "Weird Sayings of the Bible"...

Why would any self-respecting dad want to spit in his daughter's face? What weird rule is behind that?

So far as I know, there's no specific command in Scripture for this practice, but there is some context for it. In Deuteronomy chapter 25, we're told that if a man dies without a son and his brother refuses to marry the dead man's widow (and try to concieve a son in the dead man's name), the brother would be brought before the elders of the town and the widow would then spit in his face, disgracing him publicly. (There's actually more to it than that - read Deuteronomy 25:7-10 for a truly unique idea of public disgrace).

Thus, a brother who refused to fulfill his social obligation to carry on his brother's family line and care for his widow was a disgraceful, selfish man - he deserved public contempt because he refused to sacrifice to do the right thing.

So when Miriam and Aaron challeneged Moses, their brother and leader, they were ultimately challenging and publicly humiliating God (who appointed Moses). You might say that God struck Miriam with leprosy to "spit in her face" or publicly shame her for her rude, inconsiderate, and selfish behavior.

But what about Aaron? He got off easy, didn't he?

Not really. Aaron could have talked Miriam out of it. He didn't and as a result, his sister ended up with leprosy. Aaron's response in Numbers 12:11,12 shows he knew his guilt.

Now fastforward ten years. Imagine Aaron, Moses, Miriam and a bunch of other Israelites are all sitting around the campfire reliving the "glory days." (No, this isn't in the Bible...) Everyone's enjoying talking about the good 'ol times till someone laughs and says,

"Hey, Miriam! Remeber that time you and Aaron got after Moses and cheesed off the Almighty and then you got struck with leprosy?"

I bet Miriam would just chuckle and say, "Yeah.. good times..."

Obviously, if she's anything like you and me, she'd feel at least a little embarrassed, so here's the critical question:

• Should Miriam feel guilty for what she did ten years later?

(Remember those questions I asked*way* at the beginning of this? Now's a good time to reflect on them...)

What actually happened to Miriam after she was struck with leprosy?

It's fairly obvious that ten years later Miriam no longer had leprosy. Jewish law demanded that anyone suffering leprosy be completely isolated from the main group of people either until the disease was cured or for the rest of their lives. Therefore, there's no way Miriam would have been accepted back into the group if she still had the disease seven days later. So if God struck her with leprosy for insulting Him and then healed her seven days later, do you think He was still upset over her arrogance?

How you answer that question determines how you answer whether or not Miriam should have been ashamed of her behavior ten years later.

You can probably see where I'm going.

Read Psalm 103:12 and look at the imagery that's used in Zechariah 3:1-4. It should be fairly obvious that no Christian should ever feel guilty for a past that God has forgiven them for. That's not the same thing as having no regrets. What I'm talking about is the daily beatings many of us (myself included) tend to give ourselves for things we've done in the past.

In fact, Scripture gives us a good picture of what is and is not acceptable guilt. In Numbers 12, note that Miriam was "shamed" for seven days. It was only temporary. However, in Zechariah ch. 3, Satan is described as an accuser. That is, one of Satan's goals is to consistently remind you of things you've done in the past - no matter if God has forgiven you for them.
So how can you tell the difference between God's conviction and Satan's accusation? Time is a good indicator. If you've confessed and repented of your sin, there's no reason you ought to remain continually ashamed of your past.

My firend Ron once shared with me a story:

Theologian R.C. Sproul was asked by a woman how she could find God's forgiveness for a past sin. She admitted to having begged God for years for forgiveness but never really felt forgiven. Sproul's response was perhaps a bit harsh, but theologically accurate. He said, "The next time you pray, ask God for forgiveness one more time. This time, ask Him to forgive you for your arrogance for refusing to believe he forgave you years ago."

But what if you can't get over it? It may be true that God's forgiven you, but how can you forgive yourself?

We can take an example from Jesus Christ. If you read the account leading to His crucifixion, you'll see that Christ suffered a great deal of public shame and humiliation. Mark 14:60-65 relates the Jews spitting in Jesus' face, for example. Then, in his final moments, Matthew 27:46 tells us Jesus cried out, "My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?"

Jesus was not only rejected by society, but even God turned His back. Since Christ took on the sins of the world (and God cannot bear to have sin in His presence), Jesus literally became something repulsive to God. No Christian, no matter how badly beaten they are by shame and humiliation can say that God has truly abandoned them. So how did Jesus take it?

Hebrews 12:2 tells us:

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

What does that mean to us?

Here's a hint: In the Greek, the word "scorn" (or "despise") means literally, "to think against". Jesus, therefore, "thought against the shame of the cross". He didn't run from it - He "endured the shame", but He did not accept it as defining who He was. Thus, a clue to overcoming the emotional bondage of shame, then, begins with rejecting the lies you tell yourself and accepting the truth of what God says about you as one of His children...

Have a great week!

Graffy