BENTHAM VS. THE BIBLE
John 11:45-54
Science fiction writer Ursula Le Guin, in her short story, "The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas," describes life in a utopian society called Omelas. She depicts a nation that is not at all unlike our own, though it differs in one notable respect: its residents enjoy perfect happiness. They experience joy without guilt, courage without risk. But as the story is told, we hear of the one compromise that the people of Omelas have made to secure their happiness. They know that their happiness--the happiness of the entire society--depends upon the torture of one innocent little child who sits in tiny dark closet amidst brooms and mops, who is fed on a half bowl of corn meal and grease, and sits all day in its own excrement. Every citizen of Omelas knows about this; every young man or woman at one point sees for him or herself the torture of this little child, and they are all perfectly aware that their happiness depends upon her pathetic suffering. And despite their moral outrage about this arrangement, most of them continue living in the perfect happiness of Omelas.
The obvious question at stake for the reader of the story is this: would you want to live in this society? Would you want to live in a society where your happiness, the happiness of so many thousands of people, depended upon the torture and suffering of just one innocent victim? Or, would you walk away, like the few who walk away from Omelas?
That question touches a whole huge branch of theological and philosophical reasoning called ethics. What is the right thing to do in a given, real--life situation? That's the field of our inquiry this morning in this sermon. I'm going to talk about a subject that has been in the news quite a lot lately, not just this week, but the many months preceding; namely, the issue of torture. Is it right that our society self-consciously and self avowedly employs the method of torture to extract information from people we suspect of wishing to do us harm--in the effort to keep us safe?
And of course, there are many other related issues that radiate out from that one: how to treat non--citizens who are suspected of wanting to do us harm--human beings who may or may not be guilty of being terrorists--how do we provide justice for them? What constitutes torture? And so on.
Now, this is where I find I always have to share with you my standard disclaimer, like the Surgeon General warning on a pack of cigarettes. I need to make clear what my role is in this whole enterprise. Because my job is to teach the Bible. And the Bible is a dead letter if it does not inform real life decisions about how to live, about what is right and wrong. And there are occasions when, as the Prophets sought to apply the Word of God to the life of their nation, we need to reflect on how the scriptures guide our national life, our participation in it as Christians. This is one of the greatest moral questions of our age, and the Bible needs to speak to it.
But let me be clear that, as I seek to interpret what scripture says around this particular social issue, the aim is to allow you to reflect on what scripture says, so you can make a decision about it based on your own conscience. This is not about my opinion; this is about what scripture leads us to believe and do; it is my job to reflect on that with you. Let your conscience disagree, but if it disagrees, let it disagree with my interpretation of scripture.
That said, I realize that some of you will disagree with what I feel is the clear teaching of the scripture on this issue, and I invite further dialogue on it, if there are those wishing to have it. I've put an entry in our church's blog--and I welcome your conversation at coffee hour.
And I'll state it right here in the beginning...the main point of my sermon. I'm going to be very linear today. I believe that the use of torture in any form is incompatible with the clear teaching of the scriptures, and that Christians can never countenance the use of torture in our name, as a means toward the end of attaining national security. In fact, I cannot think of a more odious perversion of the gospel. And I want to be clear that this is a practice that goes beyond Republicans and Democrats, as both parties have tolerated it in various ways. But in some ways, I am shocked that it's even been a discussion. It is outrageous that those guided by a Bible whose dead weight rests on the commandment to love enemies and pray for those who persecute you, would countenance the use of water boarding, throwing people against walls, allowing them to suffer cold and nakedness--people who may or may not be guilty--in order to enhance and preserve our national security.
One of the reasons I felt so compelled to speak about this is also because of reading about the Pew Research Center's recent opinion poll about torture1. One of the shocking and much spoken about results of that survey is the fact that the group most likely to believe that torture is justified consists of white, evangelical Christians. Now, I hate labels, but I am a person who would like to describe himself using that word, Evangelical, one who is wholly committed to the Good News of Jesus Christ. But it has made many wonder whether our practice of the Christian faith in this nation has come dangerously close to civil religion. I find it rather surprising to find anyone using the scripture could possibly make an argument for the use of torture as a means to preserve our national security.
So why is that the case? Let's get to the matter at hand this morning. What does the scripture say, and how might we make a judgment based on scripture on this critical ethical question? How is it that scripture is fundamentally incompatible with the use of torture?
In looking at that question, I'd like to contrast two very different ways of looking at ethics. We're going to have a little mini--course in the field of ethics this morning. And the two brands of ethics I am going to compare and contrast are on the one hand a school of ethics called Utilitarianism; and the other hand, Biblical ethics. I want to make the claim that this secular way of thinking about ethics called utilitarianism is fundamentally opposed to the ethics revealed in the Bible.
So what is utilitarianism? It's a school of ethics that's been around for a long, long time, but became especially popular in the 18th Century by such thinkers as John Stuart Mill and Jeremy Bentham--who is thought to be one of its leading proponents. Utilitarianism can be boiled down to a pretty simple equation; Utilitarianism seeks the greatest good for the greatest number. Its main focus is the end or the goal of any action, in that it defines as good that which will have the greatest benefit for the most people. It is less concerned with how you arrive at that end--as long as that formula is satisfied.
Now, this sounds like a very appealing way of making ethical decisions. Utilitarian philosophy contributed to the thinking that formed our modern democracy. We spread the pain and joy around according to that formula so that we achieve the greatest good for the greatest number. Sounds good, yes?
But here's the rub. Using this formula to make ethical decisions means that it is perfectly OK to countenance the suffering of a few, in order to benefit the many. You could also say that utilitarianism has to be based on the idea that the ends justify the means. As long as you achieve the end, the goal of the greatest good, anything that gets you there is right.
So...to make an omelet, you've got to break some eggs. It's unfortunate that some people have to suffer so that everyone can be happy, but that's the way it is. The greatest good for the greatest number means that a few might need to suffer, in order to allow for the many to be happy.
This is the time--tested brand of ethics that politicians and civil leaders have used for millennia. Again: you've got to break a few eggs to make an omelet.
The Peace of Rome is based on a sword. You've got to inflict a bit of pain to have peace, inflict a little violence on a few people to make people afraid, so they'll stay in line, so everyone will have peace. Little pain for a few, lot of happiness and peace for the many.
You have to crucify a few people, make an example of them, so people don't get uppity. You see, the Romans crucified people in public, in the public square--just a few--to make an example to the many, not to try to mess with the Peace of Rome.
Caiaphas is the prime example of utilitarian way of thinking. This is what he says: "You know nothing at all! You do not understand that it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation be destroyed." (John 11:50) Utilitarianism 101.
This secular way of thinking is exemplified in the person who orchestrated Jesus' crucifixion.
If this guy is causing trouble for our country; he's gaining a following. If he challenges the power of the Roman occupation, they will crush us. He's got to die, so as not to spoil it for the rest of us. A little suffering for one. A lot of good for the rest of us. The greatest good for the greatest number.
John uses Caiaphas's ethics to critique this political philosophy. This passage indicates that biblical ethics functions in just the opposite way such secular thinking.
So how do we break that down?
You might say this: if utilitarianism is focused on the end result--which it defines as happiness, or "greatest good"--you could say that biblical ethics is based on the means. If happiness is the main goal of utilitarianism, righteousness, doing the right thing is the main goal of biblical ethics.
If the greatest good for the greatest number is the formula for utilitarianism, we might describe biblical ethics, and especially New Testament ethics this way: doing the right thing might make you unhappy. Doing the right thing might just make you suffer. We might say it this way: doing the right thing is worth suffering for.
"If any want to be my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it and those who lose their life for my sake will save it." (Mark 8:34-35). That is a sort of obvious and undeniable aspect of biblical ethics.
Being a Christian means believing that doing the right thing is worth everything. Following Jesus, doing the right thing...is worth everything.
Biblical ethics functions just the opposite of what we might call secular philosophy, or utilitarian ethics, in that the primary good sought is not for the greatest number, but the least; for the minority. The parable of the lost sheep is a prime example of this biblical principle. The Good Shepherd puts at risk the safety and security of the ninety-nine, in order to rescue just one lost sheep. That parable is an excellent snapshot indicative of biblical ethics.
But maybe it simply boils down to this. Doing something to attain a good result is not a bad thing. The greatest good for the greatest number is a good principle to start with. But it's when it collides with doing the right thing that we have a problem.
To go back to the story I spoke about at the beginning of my sermon--we all know that there's something just not right about the situation in which one little child suffers--even just one--so that everyone can be happy.
I think all of this I think should really cause us to ask this question...in a way, this is what it boils down to: Is life just survival? Because if we think that that's all our lives are worth--survival--then national security ought to be our aim. But if we believe that life is not just about survival--it's about something higher and deeper, then it calls us to risk something for the sake of those values. And for me, living is not just about survival; it's about the abundant life promised in Jesus Christ, and when we follow him, we focus on doing the right thing, not just the safe thing. And following him may make us profoundly unsafe, and unhappy in the utilitarian sense of a life focused on happiness and survival.
As we consider today those who have died for our country--we must ask ourselves the question: did they die just so we could survive? Or did they die for some higher set of values than that? Values like freedom, and equality, and justice; values that are worth dying for?
You know, if we think about the gospel narrative, it is a story about the fact that we did the worst thing human beings could do. We killed the ultimate innocent victim: we killed God, in the form of a human being, in order to make society safer.
And the cross is God's way of saying, NO! Don't do this! Don't torture people! You did it to Me, thinking it was the right thing to do. Don't do it! Even if someone may be guilty! Don't do the worst wrong thing in order to attain the right result.
And here's the twist: God willingly suffered that. God, in the person of Jesus Christ, willingly suffered torture and death, in order to expose all of the crazy machinations, all the evil human beings are subject to. But God used that moment to show the ultimate love of God, the ultimate YES of God. God was willingly tortured and killed for our sake, so we might know what it means really to LIVE. In the cross, God both diagnosed the disease, and gave us the cure.
The irony of Caiaphas's words is that they have a double meaning. It IS true that one person had to suffer and die, so that the whole nation might live--that the whole human race could know what it means to really live, through a life not of happiness, but of self-donation.
God willingly became that little child, in that cruel closet, willingly suffering for our sake--not so we could keep doing that. But that we might know the love that cures us of this disease called evil and fear, love that sets us free.
He died that we might live. But he also died to call into question all our schemes for creating any other kind of peace.
So here's the question: are you comfortable living...in Omelas? Are you comfortable living in an American that countenances torture? Or are you one of the ones who say No? Are you one of the ones who walk away?
1 http://pewforum.org/docs/?DocID=156
May 24, 2009
Jeff Vamos
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