Moral Clarity or Moral Blindness?
Sermon by Steve Edington
October 22, 2006
Language is one of those things that continually fascinates me, which is a bit unusual since I fared very poorly in every foreign language course I ever took. I recall making a deal with a German professor back in my college days that if he would give me a passing grade I would never again take a course in German. We each lived up to our side of the bargain. My language fascination, instead, has to do with how certain words and phrases find their way into our societal and cultural lexicon and then become used as tools for driving, if not manipulating, public opinion. You're familiar with some of the more well-used ones I'm sure: Pro-Life, Pro-Family, Values Voter, and the like. Just for the record, I happen to be in favor of life and families; and, as I hope to demonstrate in a couple of weeks, I'm a values voter. So is everyone, I would maintain, who casts a ballot in any given election. But given my opinions on a wide range of contemporary issues, I'd most likely be cast as the enemy of all three of these stances by those who have captured the language for their own political purposes and ends.
Over the past several years, and particularly in our post 9/11 environment, my radar has picked up on another such term and tool when it comes to driving - or attempting to drive - public opinion. The term is "moral clarity," which is something I've long considered to be a good thing, and something I've long considered myself to be in favor of. I even like to think I possess a bit of it. But now I'm not so sure. This term - moral clarity - is increasingly being used as a rationale by the current administration and its defenders for the policies this nation has adopted in response to the threats and fears of terrorism.
An early shot across the bow in this regard was the publication in the fall of 2002 of a book by William Bennett titled Why We Fight: Moral Clarity and the War on Terror. Mr. Bennett, the self-appointed czar of our national morality, used his book and its title to advocate for, among other things, a pre-emptive strike on Iraq. Fast forward four years on this same trajectory and you come to a speech given this past August 29 by Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld before the Annual Convention of the American Legion. In this speech Mr. Rumsfeld accused critics of the administration's war policy in Iraq of lacking "moral clarity" and of being "morally confused" when it comes to fighting terrorism.
It all set me to pondering - which is something I do a lot. (The less friendly term for this activity is "day-dreaming." But, playing my own little game with language, I like to call it "pondering.") Here's what I pondered as I thought on the pronouncements of Misters Bennett and Rumsfeld: We are nearing the 3000 mark when it comes to American combat deaths in Iraq; we're up to around 20,000 wounded. Several hundred thousand Iraqi civilians have been killed since the spring of 2003. The country is destabilized to the point that is now provides a base of operation for terrorists, where no such base existed prior to our invasion. And our moral standing and credibility in the larger world community has been seriously diminished and compromised. I further pondered that if this horrific and hideous set of outcomes is the result of "moral clarity" then I would just as soon be morally confused.
But I don't think I am - morally confused, that is. I think, rather, that I do have enough clear-headedness to recognize when a perfectly good and necessary attribute like moral clarity becomes falsely equated with moral certitude or moral absolutism. For when that happens - when that kind of false equation is set in place - you end up not with moral clarity at all but with moral blindness. And that's what we're dealing with right now.
When it comes to our presence in Iraq we're dealing with the outcome of a phony kind of moral clarity that rapidly degenerated into moral blindness, and which has given us the morass we now find ourselves in the midst of. And some of our finest young men and women, who loved their country and willingly went forth to serve it, have paid the highest price for this blind moral posturing. My position on this war is well-known enough both within and beyond this congregation that for me to continue in this vein would be to carry the proverbial coals to Newcastle. So it's time to move on.
I've offered what I've said to this point, not to belabor points I've made before, but to draw in as strong a way as I can the crucial distinction between moral clarity and moral certitude or moral absolutism. True moral clarity calls for careful discernment and for the weighing of various possible outcomes in determining what is in fact the most moral and ethical course to take in any given situation. Moral certitude or absolutism, on the other hand, assumes that one has the unquestionably correct moral position at the outset of any given course of action, and that such course then has to be stayed however misguided - tragically and horribly misguided on occasion - it may prove to be.
Nearly four years ago I offered a sermon here called "Confessions of a Moral Relativist." It actually managed to generate a little buzz. I got a few requests from persons or organizations who maintain websites or blogs dealing with the place of morality and ethics in determining social policy matters asking if they could use it. Well, heck, I have my ego-needs like everyone else, so I said, "Sure, put it out there; just make sure you spell my name right - there's only one 'd' in Edington." I'm going to revisit some bit and pieces of that sermon today in order to expand upon what I'm putting out here; and to make the point that a healthy dose of moral relativity - as much as that term is decried, misused, and misunderstood - is actually what is needed if one is going to possess a true and honest kind of moral clarity. I'll pick up on that one in a few minutes.
Reflective of some of what I've said so far, I can well understand how in times of confusion and fear and uncertainty the human need and instinct to reach for certitudes and absolutes is very real. It's the same kind of need and instinct that causes a drowning person to reach for the security of a life preserver - for something sure to hold onto when life becomes uncertain or fearful. It all reminds me of an inquiry that came to me through our church's website several years ago which said, in part: "My best friend, who is a Christian like myself, is exploring his sexuality and his search is revealing that he is gay. I don't know what to think. I'm hoping you can offer some guidance... I'm scared and confused as I know he is... Could you possibly send me any text about what God thinks about people like my best friend...?"
My first take on this was to feel a little flattered that someone thinks I know what God thinks! She must believe I move in some pretty rarified circles! But I did not want to make light of her concern and the moral struggle she was experiencing. I'll tell you my answer to her later. [In television parlance, what I just said is called a "teaser." Now you have to stay tuned to see where I went with it with no mental channel surfing.] For now, let's just focus on what I took to be the key words in this note: "I'm confused... I'm scared... What does God think?" This person was seeking moral clarity on a matter she's scared and confused about, and she wants to know what God thinks. She is reaching for certitude in a time of confusion - and who doesn't? Her final court of appeal, so to speak, is what "God thinks." She's looking for the moral bottom line in a real-life situation that has deeply affected her.
So what is the assumption, whether she consciously realizes or not, behind this young lady's question? The assumption is that our codes of morality and behavior are ultimately rooted in a source somewhere beyond human construction or human experience. It could be a Deity - "God" however conceived - or what our Enlightenment ancestors, Thomas Jefferson for example, called "Natural Law." It's something "out there", in other words that we have to access in order to be morally clear. It's a common and understandable assumption. What parent, for example, has not reached a point of exasperation after running out of explanations to his or her child to obey a parental command when they keep asking "why?...why?...why?...why?" and finally says: "Because I said so, and that's all the reason you need!" Way back in my pre-parenthood days I promised myself that I'd never say that to any kid of mine. It turned out to be one of the more easily broken promises I ever made to myself.
It is not that big of a jump to generalize from this kind of common parental experience to the idea that morality itself ultimately must come from some kind of cosmic, supra-human "Because I Said So." There may be debate over who or what the "I" is in The Big "I Said So," but the idea that Morality with a capital 'M' derives from a Transcendent Source beyond us human beings is a commonly held one. From this perspective, moral clarity comes from one's being in touch with this Transcendent Source, the Big I Said So as it were, and in knowing the will of the Big I Said So. To be morally confused is to be out of touch with such a will.
The fear that maybe there is no such thing as a Big I Said So, was well put by the character of Ivan Karamazov in Fyodor Dostoevski's novel The Brothers Karamazov when Ivan says, "If God is dead everything is permitted."
Walk with me for a few minutes now into what I hope isn't too deep water as I offer an alternative idea or point of view to that of Ivan Karamazov and his literary creator, Mr. Dostoevski. I would first gently point out to Ivan that history - right down to the present moment - is rife with examples of human beings acting as if everything is permitted, while doing those very things in the name of God. Whether it's an Islamic inspired terrorist flying a plane into a skyscraper, or a home-grown Christian Ayrian Nation inspired terrorist blowing up a federal building in Oklahoma City - these are but two examples of persons acting on the basis of their own absolute moral clarity that they were doing the right thing, and that they were doing it in accordance with the will of the God in whom they believed. Moral clarity, therefore, standing alone and unchecked, does not in any way guarantee a moral outcome.
Pointing that out, I would then direct Ivan - and us - to an essay by the biologist Edward O. Wilson, who at age 77 still retains his post as a Research Professor of Evolutionary Biology at Harvard University. It's titled "The Biological Basis of Morality." The title contains Wilson's point which is, in his words: "Moral values come from human beings, whether or not God exists... ethical codes have arisen through the interplay of biology and culture." His contention, with which I happen to agree, is that there came a point in human evolution when the earliest human beings realized that their survival depended upon their willingness and ability to band together and cooperate rather then each trying to survive alone. This, in turn, led to an evolutionary trend in our genes that predisposed us to co-operative behavior-or to put it another way, so we wouldn't just go around killing each other off in a competition to survive. This process, in turn, gave rise to moral sentiments and codes of moral and ethical behavior that were attributed to Transcendent Sources - like the Gods or God - in order to give them their authority; that cosmic "Because I Said So" as it were.
There's a downside to this process, as Wilson acknowledges, in that it also leads to a troubling kind of xenophobia. What he means by that is that cooperation mostly occurs within groups or tribes or nationalities who define themselves and their well being often in opposition to other groups, tribes, and nationalities. So we are biologically predisposed to cooperate on the one hand, but to assert our personhood or group-hood on the other. Sometimes these two drives work against each other; and sometimes in very tragic ways. But he tries to wrap up his theory on a positive note by pointing out that "We are of a single gene pool from which individuals are drawn into each generation and into which they are dissolved the next generation, forever united as a species by heritage and a common future."
This is akin to something I say in many of the funerals and memorial services I lead. I say that there is an ongoing Flow of Life on this planet and in this universe of ours. We each come out of that flow for a time, we have our individual lives here on earth, and then in time return to that larger Flow of Life again. And we leave something of ourselves here for the enrichment of others. That is my concept of Eternal Life - that we are each and all eternally related. This is also my basis of morality - that we are each and all eternally related.
Our world, as we know, has become a much more fragmented and fearful place since Dr. Wilson first put forth his ideas some 15-20 years ago. I can only hope that we can still catch something of his vision of a united species with a common gene pool. Would we in this nation/tribe of ours - terribly wounded as we were over five years ago - be as willing to inflict death and destruction upon the members of another nation/tribe, however noble and high minded and supposedly morally clear our motives were - if we could see the actual peoples of that other nation/tribe in the kind of relationship that Wilson describes? Not having such a vision, I would suggest, is what allows moral clarity to degenerate into moral blindness.
So where does religion fit into all this? Or does it? Here again I get some help from Wilson in the same essay of his that I've been using. Try this line of his: "The human mind evolved to believe in gods. It did not evolve to believe in biology." That's a rather candid admission from a renowned biologist. He is recognizing that we did not stop asking those "why" questions even when we were no longer children. We just took them to another level: Why am I here? How do I know what is right? How am I related to my neighbor, to my family members, to my community, my nation, my world? These are religious questions and they are moral questions that we are called upon to struggle with and live out as best we can.
To seek and attain moral clarity - in its very best sense, then - is to pursue these questions with both trust and humility. To have enough trust in our ability to discern what is right, and to be humble enough to stand corrected when we are wrong. To pursue these kinds of "ultimate why" questions honestly and thoroughly means looking at the truths that objective inquiry can disclose as well as the human truths we find when we look into the deepest needs and yearnings of our own souls, and when we truly seek to understand and relate to and in some way attempt to fulfill the deepest needs and desires in the hearts and minds of our fellow human beings.
One more pass at Dr. Wilson. "Religion," he writes, "will possess strength to the extent that it puts into enduring poetic form the highest values of humanity consistent with empirical knowledge." That is what we try to do here. I believe we have a religion that both allows and compels us to put into poetic form the highest values of humanity. I speak not only of the poetry of our words but of the poetry of our deeds and lives as well. We must always remain open to the truths that the natural world, as well as the worlds of people and ideas holds before us.
So if there is a bedrock basis for morality - and a true and honest beginning point in the quest for moral clarity - then I would cast my lot with Wilson's assertion that we are "forever united as a species by heritage and a common future." From the family to the neighborhood to the congregation to the community, nation and world - the kinds of moral behavior that is necessary, and that will save us as a human species if indeed we are to be saved, is one that will proceed from this notion that we are "forever united as a special by heritage and a common future."
Oh yes, how did I answer that young woman asking about her friend's sexual orientation? I guess I should make good on my teaser, even as I know that those of you who have been listening to me over the years from up here have probably figured it out already. Anyway, I said first of all that sexual orientation in and of itself is not a moral issue - it is sexual behavior and the moral choices we make about how we live out our own sexuality that is the real moral challenge, and which needs to be based on respect, care, and love.
As for that business about what God thinks, well I wrote the following: "I really don't know what God thinks about what you're asking me. My understanding of God is really that of a Life Force or Spirit, or of a Power within Ourselves similar to what Ralph Waldo Emerson called the 'Spark of the Divine' that he believed resided in the souls of all people. So, I believe we have this Power within ourselves to draw upon as we make moral choices. And we should be willing to have those choices examined by others who we know and love and trust in the most." [See, I told you you'd be able to guess what I said.]
To conclude: If Dr. Wilson is right, as I believe he is, about our sense of morality being an innate and inherited human trait, we are still left with the task of making moral choices, of pursuing moral clarity and guarding against moral blindness, to which each and all of us are prone. One of our tasks, and one of our callings as a religious community, is to provide a setting, to provide a safe and discerning place, wherein we do not have to make those choices in isolation. It needs to be a place where we have the support and interaction of others in resolving the dilemmas and decisions that confront us.
It is because we share a common future that we need communities of moral and ethical decision making, where, in the words of Alicia Carpenter, we may celebrate and cultivate:
"A mind that's free to see the truth;
A mind that's free in age and youth,
To choose the path no threat impedes
Wherever light of conscience leads"
Stephen D. Edington
October 22, 2006
