Negotiable Principles
©
by the Reverend Dr. Byron E. Shafer
(Rutgers,
January 30, 2000; 4th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B)
Deuteronomy
18:15–20 (OT, p. 194);
I
Corinthians 8:1–13 (NT, pp. 178–179)
The
English novelist Thomas Hardy approvingly described
one
of his characters in this way [The Hand of
Ethelberta, 1876]:
“Like
the British constitution, she owes her success in practice
to
her inconsistencies in principle.”
My
parents were nothing like Hardy’s character.
With
them, principles really mattered,
principles
were consistently applied,
and
principles were absolutely non-negotiable.
One
was to adhere to them—with no ifs, ands, or buts!
Among
the principles that were in force during my childhood
in
our strict Midwestern Protestant household were these:
no
alcohol of any kind at any age;
no
smoking;
no
card playing (instead, we played Rook and Authors,
and
one reason I loved to visit my cousin Harriet was
that
she was allowed to play Canasta);
and
no going to movies or parties on Sunday.
Some
of these principles were argued from the Bible—
such
as the Keep-the-Sabbath-Day-Holy ones—
but
others—like no alcohol, no smoking, no card playing—
were
just argued, without benefit of the Bible.
Indeed,
when I was feeling particularly mischievous,
I
would quote the Bible against my parents,
reminding
them that Jesus drank wine at meals
and
that the First Letter to Timothy says (5:23),
“No
longer drink only water, but take
a
little wine for the sake of your stomach
and
your frequent ailments.”
Ah,
the injustice of it all!
My
parents sent me to Sunday School to learn verses like that,
but
when I quoted them, they didn’t give me any credit at all.
I
seem to remember them muttering something about
their
stomachs feeling just fine, thank you very much,
and
about their not having frequent ailments anyway,
+
about water in Jesus’s day being quite unhealthy.
Upon
reflection, I’m certain that our household was governed
not
just by negative principles but by positive ones as well—
like
love God, and love your neighbor,
and
do unto others as you would have others do unto you—
but
somehow it’s the negative ones I remember best,
probably
because the principles one internalizes
are
not so memorable as those one rebels against,
the
principles one accepts are not so remarkable
as
those one tries to negotiate.
The
biggest fight I ever had with my parents occurred when I tried
to
negotiate one of our household’s absolute principles,
the
one about “no going to movies or parties on Sunday.”
I
had been invited to a once-in-a-lifetime event.
I
was in a mid-year eighth-grade graduating class of 13 kids
at
a public elementary school in Chicago, Illinois.
It
was January, 1952, and, come February, we would all be
moving
on to 9th grade in a large, anonymous
high school.
Everyone
knew that Jacqueline Alt was the richest kid in our class,
and
that was proven when all 12 of the rest of us received
an
invitation from her parents to be their guests for a
graduation
party featuring a fancy lunch and ice show at
the
elegant Conrad Hilton Hotel—
but
here's the catch, on a Sunday afternoon.
I
hoped beyond hope that for such a special treat as this
our
household’s Sunday rule would prove negotiable.
But
as it turned out, it didn’t,
and
I was the only kid in the class who wasn’t there.
Even
my best friend, Bobby Slack, who was Salvation Army
and
whose mother was usually much more strict than mine,
wound
up going—but not me.
And
ever since then, I’ve looked pretty favorably on situation ethics!
One
of the great ethical debates among people of faith today,
one
within our own denomination, concerns the issue of on what
basis
Christians should determine how to act.
Should
Christians
act on the basis of absolute principles alone,
or
should we act with a view toward achieving goals,
or
should we act from some flexible combination of
concern
for principles, contexts, and worthy goals.
Choices
among these three ways of determining the best course of
action
confront every person almost everyday, almost everywhere.
Certainly
that’s the case in business + politics here in the US.
For
example in these weeks leading up to the South Carolina primary,
principle
does not seem to have been involved at all in the decision
by
George Bush and John McCain to come out in support of
flying
the confederate battle flag over S.C.’s statehouse—
the
battle flag that represents the waging of bloody war
in
defense of the institution of slavery
+
in opposition to the continued unity of our nation.
So
far as I can tell, the decisions by Bush + McCain were made
solely
in service to the pragmatic goal of receiving the most
ballots
possible from that state’s Republican voters.
In
a second example, the State of New Jersey did act on an absolute
principle—not
supporting genocide—when it decided to divest
itself
of all shares in its portfolios of the Talisman Corp. For
that
oil company is complicit in the Government of Sudan’s
warfare
against the tribal groups in its southern regions.
And
finally, in a third recent case coming from business and politics,
we
encounter a decision that involved negotiating a principle,
that
required a politician to balance one of his principles with
his
concern for healthy outcomes in particular situations.
John
McCain is opposed in principle to abortion,
yet
he has now announced that he will support
a
woman’s right to choose in those cases where
she
has been raped or her life is in jeopardy.
Well,
in business, in politics, in personal life,
how
are we to go about choosing what we
should do?
On
the basis of absolute principles?
On
the basis of how effectively to achieve certain goals?
Or
on the basis of some flexible balancing of principles
+
goals in light of particular circumstances + situations?
I
think my remarks have already suggested to you
that
I’m inclined to the third way rather than to the first two,
that
I favor a flexible negotiating of principles and goals
in
light of particular circumstances and situations.
Why
do I not favor as the best basis for making ethical choices
the
second way, focused on effectively attaining certain goals?
Well
first, many goals are in and of themselves immoral,
or
what we might call “unprincipled.”
Genocide
is one example of an unprincipled end,
and
any action that supports it, however indirectly,
including
the passive holding of stock in a
company
that’s “complicit” in it
cannot
be moral.
And
second, the end really does not justify the means—
which
is to say that not every means even to a moral end
is
itself moral. For example,
the
goal of winning votes is not immoral.
But
pandering to racial prejudice as a means
of
winning votes—that is immoral!
And
why do I not favor as the best basis for making ethical choices the
first
way I mentioned, the way focused on
faithfully
following absolute principles?
Well,
I’ve shared with you something of my life experience.
What
I haven’t yet told you is that long after 8th
grade,
when
I was in my thirties, my parents confided to me
that
they had come to the opinion that
they
had made a mistake in not letting me go to
that
particular Sunday party 2 decades before.
But
hey! By that time, in the 1970s,
my
parents were even playing bridge!
And
why do I favor as the best basis for making ethical choices
the
third way I mentioned, the flexibility to negotiate principles
goals
in light of particular circumstances and situations?
Well,
the Bible and Jesus himself
have
something to do with my belief, including,
most
relevantly, the two lessons that we read this morning.
The
Book of Deuteronomy is first and foremost a law code,
a
compilation of principles to be put into force.
And
the authors of Deuteronomy sought to create and impose
a
uniform Law of God, communicated through Moses
and
to be lived out by all of God’s people.
Now
prophecy was a phenomenon that was spontaneous.
It
was uncontrolled and uncontrollable, making it
both
a powerful instrument for change and renewal
and
also a danger to all attempts at imposing on a people
religious
conformity and orthodoxy.
Prophets,
you see, sometimes introduce
fresh
new understandings of God’s will,
ones
not stated in previously existing principles.
But
against the will and inclination of the authors of Deuteronomy,
these
authors had to acknowledge in our lesson
that
the role of the prophet,
with
all of its spontaneity and unpredictability,
was
in truth a valid and God-ordained office.
So
from this morning's First Lesson, I would argue that
although
it is easier + more comfortable for people of faith
to
live by a canon of previously pronounced principles,
we
need to leave room for fresh new insights
into
what it is that God is seeking to accomplish
and
how it is that that can best be brought to pass.
For
example, how, apart from such fresh new
“prophetic”
insights, would we know God wills
for
women’s roles in the church to be equal
to
those of men and that God wills for us
to
act against previously inherited
principle
in order to make that so.
Our
Second Lesson comes from the apostle Paul.
Now
the particular ethical issue with which Paul is wrestling
is
arcane and no longer on the church’s front burner, to say the
least—namely,
may we eat meat sacrificed to idols—but the
overall
issue of I Corinthians 8 is quite relevant to us.
For
that issue is: Should the actions
of Christians
be
based on abstract principles applied absolutely—
like
the principle,
“Food
will not bring us close to God,”
therefore
I may eat what I want when
I
want to (period, end of discussion)”?
Or
should Christians’ actions take into account what
would
be loving in each particular situation—
so
that the principle, context, + goal
are
negotiated like this:
“Although
I may ordinarily eat what I want
when
I want to, in this particular case
it
would not be good to do that,
for
some of those present might be
led
to lapse back into polytheism”?
Paul
will go on to say, just one chapter after our lesson (9:19–23),
that
when he is with Jews he conforms to Jewish law and that
when
he is not with Jews he does not conform to Jewish law.
Paul
confesses that he himself negotiates
between
principles and goals and contexts.
And
that’s the approach to ethical decision making
that
I believe it is wise for us to emulate,
for
it allows us to make determinations like the following:
In
many cases it is best to provide home health care
for
parents who are ill,
but
in some cases, under certain circumstances,
it
is best to take them to a nursing facility.
The
difficult thing about making ethical choices by negotiating
among
principles + goals + contexts is that it’s a hard thing to do.
It
requires constant and continuous ethical reflection,
and
it does not allow easily for acting from habit.
Yet
Jesus is our primary model,
and
it is really he who calls us to this difficult task.
According
to the principles of his time,
he
ought not to have eaten with sinners, but he did anyway.
According
to principle, he ought not to have touched lepers,
but
he did.
According
to principle, he ought not to have healed on the
sabbath,
but he did
According
to principle, he ought not to have taught women,
but
he did.
According
to principle, he ought not to have paid attention to
children,
but he did.
According
to principle, he ought not to have overthrown the
tables
of the moneychangers, but he did.
Fresh
expressions and understandings of God’s will do happen.
Difficult
circumstances sometimes render valued principles
inapplicable
or inappropriate.
Living
by principles that are open-ended and negotiable
may
be difficult to do,
but
it is the collective wisdom of prophets, of Jesus, and of Paul
that
it is this course of action that is the best.
Let
us pray:
O God, give us the grace and the strength to bring to each new day the resolve and the flexibility to be able to think through how we should act before we act. In the name of Christ, we pray. Amen.
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