Where responsibility became important was in the
conversation on absolute and relative morals. It was argued on the one side
that moral absolutes created no requirement for self-investment, one only needs
to follow and obey. Yet on the other hand, there was an appeal to faith as an individual
investment, in which obedience was not seen as a construct of faith but rather
its fruit. But it was nonetheless thought to be stale fruit so long as my faith
was not provided a clear path through my works. Faith was invalidated outside
of works, and was therefore remanded to “wishful thinking.” One could trust in
God about the sickness of a loved one, but again, faith required no personal
investment. We could fold our hands, pray, walk away, and leave the rest to
God. Of course, such formulas exist, but they tell us nothing about the inner
life of the ordeal we so desperately wish to understand.
Theologians of this time sensed that faith meant something
more than a secondary function that could only be fleshed out by one’s works or
obligations. Moral absolutes simply created no element of self-risk. Without
risk, the imperative for faith was unclear. Bultmann made a point of this when
he noted that Jesus’ rising from the dead was an inauthentic existential act,
provided he knew he would rise from the dead. Jesus could be “obedient to the
death of a cross,” but his obedience did not necessarily translate into the
need to feel the terror of the grave, a feeling of not knowing where his
obedience might lead. Faith was thought to be the missing component of obedience.
Jesus’ moral response could only be validated by an act of faith that
considered the possibility that he might not rise again. Only when the possibility of failure existed
does faith make any sense. This is precisely why obedience without faith is
morally suspect as a Christian concept.
To “not obey” or “go the way of the flesh,” only suggests a
problem of behavior. Yet responsibility grasped at the very heart of such
disobedience as an existential problem that lined up more fully and more
rationally with the Christian belief that man inherited his sin nature from
Adam.
Without a clear formula for obedience however, the charge
became that such Christians were moral relativists, which was seen as the
greater of two evils. In the case of such relativism, one risked the collapse
of revelation, the inconsistency of the biblical witness, and finally the loss
of the democratizing appeal of scripture that all men are created equal. If men
are equal, then surely the situations as they attend them are no different in the
interpretative lens of one man than they are for another.
Perhaps one of the more powerful examples of moral
relativism came in the theology-meets-life case of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Theologians may have felt that moral
responsibility was subject to a context of not very well-defined goals, but
Bonhoeffer lived this reality. When Bonhoeffer was faced with the decision of
repudiating National Socialism and ultimately conspiring in the assassination
attempt of Adolf Hitler, he was faced with a moral dilemma that was based not
in interpretation but methodology.
With the injunction of the commandment not to kill
(technically, murder) hanging over his head, Bonhoeffer had to strive for a way
past the blockade of moral absolutes and come to an understanding of morality
that would ultimately shape his decision in the coming months. His answer was
that ethics always occurring when one stands before the “face of God.” This
understanding meant that the biblical witness had to be shaped through a
different kind of looking glass, one encountered by a cacophony of different
instructions and voices to experience how God was speaking to the church today.
Much like a Charismatic Evangelical, who believes he is speaking a prophetic
word might say that the word that comes to him does not resist the totality of
scripture, but is emphasized in a living body of work, Bonhoeffer’s decision to
look to Jesus was based upon a similar project. This meant that while one could
affirm that absolute harmony of God’s word, since the Word was always ontological, the phenomenology of the words
demonstrated that some words regularly manifested over others for the
edification of the believer. As a people bound to the book, Christians like
Bonhoeffer to Billy Graham, found that in “hearing what the Spirit was saying
to the churches,” (Revelation 2:7) did not need to invalidate the body of
scripture.
The question of whether one is a relativist depends largely
on application ethics and not canonicity. If simply admitted that the canon is, we do not need to be harassed about
questions of why it is and what it should have become since these are largely
historical concerns. That it did become what it is, and that it has
consistently been treated as a multi-colored spectrum of God’s interactions
with humanity permits response. And how have the people of Christ responded? With
many, many different voices drilling down to differences within the heart of
each community, but more importantly down to the divided individual. This is
not a lack of consistency. For consistency speaks to systematization and simply
a cry to return to absolutism. Consistency, at any rate, lies in the continued engagement
with the scriptures.
TreyPalmisano - Please define moral relativism from your view....
ReplyDeleteHi David, moral relativism, as I conceive it, is the view that there are no absolute values determining how we might respond to any given situation. Some Christian thinkers (such as the ones I mention) looked at the question of faith as a moral response rather than as a single act of affirmation - therefore being careful not to separate "faith" and "morals" into two separate spheres of activity. In the case of Christianity, moral relativism is not a proposition that demands a poststructuralist disdain for truth, meaning that because one moral response is the same as another, we have no recourse to anything meaningful. Rather, these thinkers argued that the truth of one's moral decision making comes in the context of our encounter with God. The rejection of absolute morality (deontology) was in reaction to the niceties of situational decision making in which one could not thoroughly appreciate all the various information contained in moral dilemmas as well as a recognition that the Bible contained moral commands that, when applied together, could contradict or require our attention to one despite the other within a rigid model of absolutism. Moral relativism is an acknowledgement that we are always choosing one way that (for whatever motivation) is right for us, even when there may be other options available to us.
ReplyDeleteTrey, thanks for the response. That's how I would understand moral relatvisim. Perhaps I'm missing something in the text on your understanding of Bonhoeffer's dilemma, but I don't think his dilemma was moral relativisim.
ReplyDeleteI think early on that he resisted the Nazi's as a Christian on a purely moral basis but later on his resistance became "active" as an actual "soldier", so to speak. Once he made the decision to engage in the active pursuit of killing(not murder) Hitler, then this is when his dilemma started and he moved from a christian resisting evil to a man engaged as a soldier. If I put myself in the same exact circumstances this would have been my conclusion. Therefore, although I think he did die as a martyr, he also died as a soldier. This is my own dilemma concering DH. When I read some people describe him as a martyr, I also know that he died in the end as a soldier/spy.
For Bonhoeffer, I would argue that the dilemma consists on his finding the moral and intellectual ground to make a decision to conspire with the Kreslau Circle and others against Hitler. The good thing is my upcoming manuscript seeks to "solve" the Bonhoeffer dilemma (to be released as a book by Wipf & Stock by the end of the year - shameless self-promotion) by suggesting that Bonhoeffer had already laid the intellectual groundwork early in his theological career thereby making his entry into the conspiracy less problematic even while dealing with the cultural stigma of murder, which as an influencer we know he struggled with from interviews we have with others who knew him. He couldn't outrightly confess to his plans in his writings for obvious reasons. I do call it murder here, because in terms of the Hebrew word רָצַח , the meaning is to "slay or murder." By using "kill" we tend to take the sting out of the action rendered as a prohibition in the commandment as it relates to humans.
ReplyDeleteTrey, I have a dilemma for you: If a man with a weapon kicks your front door in, barges in and threatens to shoot your wife and three kids, while you are upstairs washing up, do you (assuming you have access to a weapon) shoot him?
DeleteBonhoeffer addressed the same situation almost precisely. In one of three seminal lectures he produced during his associate pastoral duties in Barcelona entitled "What is a Christian Ethic?", he provided a similar scenario in which a young man sees his mother and brother about to be killed by soldier in his home. He asks the question whether he should kill that soldier, which, in doing so, he would violate the commandment, or stand by helplessly, and therefore fail to "love his brother and mother." Perhaps what is most interesting in Bonhoeffer’s analysis is that in this passage he focuses not on the prohibitive nature of murder but on the choice of who to murder as a way to draw out the insufficiency of the commandment. What would I do? I have no idea until I'm in the situation. That's precisely what Bonhoeffer and a lot of theologians were doing at this time, drawing out the problems of deciding on pre-conceived outcomes before the situation avails itself to us. How would you answer your question, David?
ReplyDelete