TO DELIGHT IN HIS WILL AND WALK IN
HIS WAYS
Chapter 5
The Moral Evaluation of Actions
To begin,
let us briefly summarize the elements of an action that form the basis for
assessing its moral quality–whether it can be judged good or bad. These elements are: (1) the object,
which is the directly intended action itself; (2) the end, or overall
purpose; and (3) the circumstances,
referring to the time, place, manner, and other relevant aspects. It only takes one of these elements to be
defective to render the action bad or evil, while all three must be in proper
order for the action to be considered good.
Consider a
traditional example, almsgiving, or giving to the poor. As an action in itself, this can certainly be
seen as something good. However, if the
funds used were promised for something else, or if there are more urgent claims
such as unpaid bills, or if the organization receiving the donation was known
to mismanage funds, the rightness of the action may be called into
question. Thus the circumstances must be
favorable. Likewise, the end or goal in
mind might be such to distort the action.
Instead of acting from generosity and genuine charity, one might be
seeking a certain kind of reputation or influence, expecting a payback through
a secret deal, or be more motivated by guilt or some other kind of pressure.
There is a
public or “objective” feature about the action itself and many of the
circumstances. Outside observers (such
as close friends and family) may question the time and place and the way the
action was carried out. But there is a
hiddenness about the end or purpose, which involves our inner motivations,
known ultimately only to God, and we cannot properly judge the moral
characteristics underlying purpose.
Then what
use is this scheme to assess the goodness or badness of actions? Principally it is for ourselves. If our calling is to be faithful Christian
disciples, to glorify God in our lives, and to be conformed to the image of
Christ, then we need some means by which we can assess our daily actions, to be
of aware of those aspects of our lives which are strengthening or hindering our
Christian lives.
Secondarily,
this analysis will be of help to those who counsel. Many Christians will feel the need to speak
to a confessor or spiritual adviser about their spiritual lives and actions, to
confront the reality of their contribution to the messes they have made; to
receive the grace of forgiveness and take positive steps toward their “amendment
of life.”
Much of the
development of Catholic moral theology, including the kind of moral analyzing
of actions presented here, came from the
need for priests and confessors to be able to ascertain the quality and
seriousness of various sins, and then assign an appropriate penance. The Roman Church went through centuries in
which the practice of confession degenerated into a mechanical system where the
chief problem to be dealt with seemed to be the breaking of certain laws of the
Church, and the performance of certain pro forma activities of penance
would bring the person into a member in good standing. What tended to be lost was the fundamental
relationship of people to God. The
process of rectifying this in the post-Vatican II Roman Church is signaled by
the change from the sacrament of penance to the sacrament of reconciliation.
Many
contemporary Christians are not troubled by the thought that their actions are
a mixture of good and bad. The reasons
for this are many: the individualism and relativism of our culture, the easy
conviction that many others are worse than we are, a confidence in the grace
and love of God which may often degenerate into “cheap grace” and
presumption. The key factor operative in
this chapter, however, is the loss of accountability before God, the general
abandonment of belief in a Day of Judgment, that all of this preoccupation with
sin and righteousness is part of an old-fashioned and morbid preoccupation
which does not accord with the dominant characteristic of God as love.
To talk
about goodness and badness in actions presupposes a conviction that our actions
matter to God who is our judge as well as our creator, redeemer and
reconciler. What matters to God is not
the number of black marks beside our name in some divine ledger and the amount
of guilt generated by our actions (which the old penitential system often
implied)--as if God becomes upset most by having his laws ignored or broken–but
because our bad actions are bad for us and weaken our fellowship with Him. As Aquinas put it: “we do not offend God
except by doing something contrary to our own good.”1
If we bring
this perspective to the moral assessment of actions, then our interest is in
developing an awareness of how to become better people: to draw closer to the
kind of human beings we were created to be, to be more faithful disciples of
Christ, and more effective servants in God’s kingdom. We can now look at the elements of the moral
assessment of actions with more clarity and detail.
1. The object. The object of an action is the concrete,
inherent and limited purpose of the action by which we describe the action,
such as sending a letter, preparing a meal, giving an offering, or writing an
essay. These actions involve a number of
subsidiary actions–such as, in the case of preparing dinner, finding recipes
and ingredients, cutting up, preparing and cooking various items, inviting
people to share in the meal, and so on–and these secondary acts receive their
intelligibility from the overall action of preparing dinner.
The reason
for defining the object of an act as inherent and limited is to indicate an
important principle at stake here: an action should not be given such a wide
description that it hides or disguises the moral evaluation of subsidiary parts
of the action. For example, a research
team working to isolate and potentially correct gene defects associated with
Alzheimer’s disease should not apply the description of their work as “finding
a cure for Alzheimer’s,” because their research might involve debatable
experimental methods, including the use and destruction of subjects such as
human embryos, actions to which many would have moral objections.
Similarly,
to use a contemporary political issue, “fighting the war against terrorism” or “protecting
national security” ought not to be used as descriptions to cover up analysis
and discussion of the proper means to conduct such operations. This kind of favorable labeling and
description is a case of importing agreement about the goodness of the end or
purpose into the description of the subsidiary actions, and attempting to have
the end justify the means.
In the case
of writing an essay as a discrete action, which will involve a number of
subsidiary actions such as deciding the amount and selection of research
materials, we could imagine a stressed out student plagiarizing material, or
even purchasing an essay from an online service offering a product. In this case, the student is not really
trying to let the end justify the means, because the action is not “handing in
an assignment” or “satisfying the course requirements.” The action is writing an essay, and inherent
in that description is the understanding that the student is doing her own
research, and offering a product of her own genuine thought and expression.
Let us go
further in our examples with an instance of a concrete action which has a
definite evil associated with it–cutting off a person’s limb. If the person is healthy, this could well be
an instance of torture, or in a country under Islamic sharia law an instance of
punishment of a crime. But if the person
has gangrene caused by diabetes, or frostbite, or has suffered severe and
crushing injury, then the removal of the limb is the medically indicated
procedure. Again, we do not say here
that the end “justifies” the means, but we are giving the action of the medical
professionals its proper description: amputation.
2. The end. The end or purpose of an action is the goal
to be accomplished. This is at the heart
of rational human action, because we are meant to have reasons for our
actions which distinguish us from animals who also have a kind of freedom to
make various decisions, but typically without awareness of goals or
purposes. There is usually not just one
goal, of course, but a network of overlapping ends.
There can be
a chain of ends from the particular to the general. A seminary student performs actions in
connection with a parish field work assignment in order to satisfy the requirements
set out in the handbook, and this in order to earn a degree from a theological
college, and this in order to become a qualified ordained minister, and this in
order to serve the Church. But if we ask
the further questions of “why do you want to do that?” we realize that we have shifted from the
linkage of objective inherent purposes of a series of actions to the subjective
and individual motives of the person.
A student
might write an essay or fulfill parish responsibilities merely to
satisfy the institutional requirements, when there ought to be other
motivations: in the case of an essay, the recognition of the usefulness of a
broader historical or theological vision in thinking about issues facing the
Church, or even an inherent interest in the subject. There could be a competitive urge to be
superior to others. Even more important
with duties in a parish, there is the hope that the student sees the connection
to his work and his desire for effective ministry, has a genuine love and
concern for people, and a desire to serve Christ. The goals of having a paying profession,
being able to support a family, and achieving personal fulfillment are not “unspiritual”
but validly overlap with other goals.
What we need is occasional reflection on the ensemble of our goals, the
self-awareness that we are not deluding ourselves, and the desire to have our
overlapping goals reflect a balanced pattern of the right priorities.
Impure and
wrong motives can make otherwise good actions morally deficient. We recognized this above with possible faulty
motives in giving money. If we turn to
cases of surgical procedures, the use of a caesarian section to deliver a baby
may not always be an unqualified good.
Some surgeons are suspected of recommending c-sections when they are not
necessary, either at the insistence of the mother, or because of convenience
(being able to avoid being called in at 2 a.m., for example), or the
possibility of extra income.
3. The circumstances. Conditions of person, time and place, and
other considerations enter into to form the context for an action. The decision to act (or refrain from acting)
is based on a judgment of the object of the action in line with the purposes to
be served, in the light of the circumstances at the time. Medical personnel arriving on the scene of a
train wreck or bomb attack may make very different judgments about what
procedures to follow and whom to help from what they would in a hospital
setting: time pressure and limited resources may create a “triage” situation
where they must ration life-saving actions.
In the more
ordinary circumstances of life, we all must make judgments about the right
thing to do now in light of our goals and responsibilities and the
circumstances. Time with friends,
leisurely meals, favorite TV programs, reading devotional books, and so on, may
need to be curtailed to attend to work, to meet unexpected demands, or to catch
up on needed sleep.
The
challenge of human life is to make concrete in real life the goals, aspirations,
and vision of life we hold to and live by.
We experience the succession of time during a day as presenting new
circumstances in which to actualize our personalities, weak and unformed as
they are. Thus there is an indeterminacy
and uniqueness about each situation that calls for creative perception and
judgment. Rules and principles must be
applied in concrete situations in the light of the current situation. There may be the need to judge the
circumstances under principles different from the ordinary rules.
Many would
argue, for example, that the circumstances of modern life affect the freedom in
which we make decisions about contraception.
The problem of overpopulation and scarce resources (not a factor before
the twentieth century), longer life span and the pressures of modern life to
limit family size, are arguably justification for coming to different
conclusions about the use of artificial contraceptives. Traditionalists would argue that there is an
inherent principle of the unity of the social and procreative meaning of the
sex act that must be preserved, not just in general, but in each act of
physical union. Arguably, other
circumstances may affect this judgment, as in the current controversy over the
legitimacy of using (and making available) condoms for the prevention of AIDS
in Africa and other areas where the infection rate is high and the option of
abstention may not be viable.
For the most
part, however, our flexibility at this point (acting correctly in a given
context of circumstances) takes shape in the way we execute the decisions and
judgments we make. The way in which we
execute our decisions is a key part in the Thomistic account of the
circumstances governing the goodness and badness of our actions. We may make a decision to visit a friend in
hospital, or begin work on a project, but laxness or procrastination on our
part means that the action is not performed at the best time, or with
sufficient time to do it properly. We
are pressed for time and preoccupied when we visit the friend; or we work on a
written assignment in haste, perfunctorily, or with inadequate
preparation. There is a defect not in
our intention and decision, but in our failure to apply ourselves with sufficient
attention and time.2 The circumstances of our performance may render an
action which was otherwise good (on the basis of the object and end) into
something ineffective and unfortunately defective.
Summary:
For a human action to be considered good (recognizing the limitations which
attach to all human action on account of the limitations of our knowledge and
will) all three elements–object, end, and circumstances–must be correct. An important defect in any of the three
aspects is sufficient to make the action bad.
Are All Ethical Decisions Situational after All? Are there any Absolutes?
We might push further with two lines of argument included
above. First, take the example of an
amputation, which can be considered something evil in itself, since it involves
the loss of a limb, but is considered good in the context of saving a person’s
life. Second, the example of
artificial contraception which in some
circumstances, at least, could be considered legitimate.
Some
Catholic moralists have taken the position that in principle all actions have a
neutral action description (such as “removing a persons’s limb”) and only
become moral actions subject to the question of whether they are good or bad
once a context is established. The
object of the action (the immediate or proximate purpose which gives the action
its type or nature) is neither good or bad but neutral, and it is the end, or more
general purpose, and the circumstances, which give the moral contours. Having sex, for example, is neither good nor
bad in the abstract–it is part of human life.
It all depends on the where, why, when and how: it is the circumstances
and the motivation which make the sex good or bad. There is much to be said for this position,
and one could cite, perhaps, the answer St. Thomas gives to the question about
stealing in a situation of need as support for this: taking what belongs to
someone else, though ordinarily wrong, is morally justifiable in certain
situations.
Yet we must
be careful about yielding to this kind of reductionism, that is, to reduce all
the objects of our action, the plain and honest description of our immediate
actions, to a realm of neutrality where only our overall intentions and the
circumstances are morally relevant. That
would imply that there are no inherently immoral actions, actions which are not
to be contemplated, no matter what the circumstances are, or what benevolent
intentions one has.
One of the aims of Joseph Fletcher’s Situation Ethics
was precisely that–to “demonstrate “ that all moral rules have, in principle,
situations where there are exceptions we would agree with, and that so-called
moral “absolutes” do not exist.
One
contemporary Roman Catholic moral theologian, Timothy O’Connell, reduces the
category of inherently evil actions to not intentionally harming the
innocent. That covers a number of
actions, such as abortion, targeting civilians in warfare, and knowingly
putting innocent people accused of crimes to death.
But this is
probably insufficient. Pope John Paul II
in his encyclical on dangers in modern moral theology quoted the Vatican II
document Gaudium et Spes:
Whatever
is hostile to life itself, such as kind of homicide, genocide, abortion,
euthanasia and voluntary suicide; whatever violates the integrity of the human
person, such as mutilation, physical and mental torture and attempts to coerce
the spirit; whatever is offensive to human dignity, such as subhuman living
conditions, arbitrary imprisonment, deportation, slavery, prostitution and
trafficking in women and children; degrading conditions of work which treat
labourers as mere instruments of profit, and not as free responsible persons; all
these and the like are a disgrace. . . and they are a negation of the honour
due to the Creator.3
Added to this list
through citations of St. Paul and St. Augustine are idolatry, adultery, fornication,
blasphemy, and other sins which, as St. Augustine, we cannot affirm that they
are no longer sins if done for a good motive.
“Consequently,” concludes the encyclical, “circumstances or intentions
can never transform an ct intrinsically evil by virtue of its object into an
act “subjectively” good or defensible as a choice.4
The Role of Consequences
It is clear that classic Christian moral theology on
Thomisitc lines cannot be consequentialist in the sense that Joseph Fletcher’s
approach was, i.e., that doing the “loving thing” is producing the best
outcome. The inner motivation of the
will whether directed toward or away from God and his will must be a decisive
factor.
However, the
consequences of an action are more than incidentally relevant. Harking back to Jesus’ short parable of the
two sons asked to work in the vineyard, the good intentions of the one were
undone by his inaction, while the defect in intention of the other was
corrected by his actually going out to work.
There is no
goodness in action which is merely desired and intended. Actions are concrete, in this world, and have
their goodness defined, in part, by what is accomplished. Aquinas put it this way: “. . . although the goodness of an action is
not caused by the goodness of its effect, nevertheless an action is called good
because it is conducive to a good effect; in this way an action’s bearing on an
effect is the measure of its goodness.”5
Consequences,
when they are foreseen or are a predictable feature of a type of action, must
be taken into account–they affect the goodness or badness of an action (ST
I-II 20.5). Thus the possible and likely
consequences are part our analysis of both the object and the end of the
act. But they do not constitute the sole
reason for the action, nor can they be the only basis for our moral
evaluation.
Let us say
that a school principal must decide about disciplining a student after some
serious offence and that guidelines offer a choice between suspension and
expulsion. Perhaps the more severe
penalty would “send a message” and result in reform in the right direction. Or it might initiate a downward psychological
spiral leading to more serious trouble.
Prediction of these possible outcomes will be difficult; but there is
also the effect on the student’s family, on the morale of the other students,
and the effect on the general regard for the authority of school policy. While all of these need to be reckoned with,
there is also a central reason for acting involving justice, and punishment
based on desert, independent of the consequences.
Doing God’s Will
There are two
extremes to avoid here: (1) thinking that a general love for God is sufficient,
and that as one has the identity of a Christian, and the intention of remaining in God’s love, then
the specific content of actions is not of great moment, as long as one’s
intentions are good. The distinction
between object and end made by Thomas and as we have tried to expound it above
makes it clear why an overall motive of love for God and neighbor is not
sufficient to validate moral actions without attention to the moral quality of
the object and the appropriateness of the circumstances.
There is a
deep truth in St. Augustine’s little quip in his commentary on the epistles of
John, Dilige Deum et quod vis fac--“love God and do as you will”-- in
that genuine love for God will result in alignment with His will, and that one’s
desires will no longer be selfish or wayward.
But it does not meet the problem of cases in which people have
self-delusions and lack of reflection and make assumptions about God’s approval
of actions that are not good but close to their own heart.
(2) The other extreme, less frequent, is to
exaggerate the degree to which people require direct guidance from God in order
for actions to be right. There is a
rather more naive and pious version of this in some Christian circles where “do
not rely on your own understanding. . . and He will direct your paths”
(Proverbs 3:5,6) is understood to mean that we should wait for God’s will to be
revealed to us rather than trust to our own decision-making. There is also a sophisticated version of the
need to rely on God’s will in the theology of Karl Barth, and we can make a few
remarks about both types.
In the pious
version, if what is meant is that our decisions need to be prayed about and
brought before God’s presence in order to gain a better understanding of what
we should do, that is thoroughly biblical and to be encouraged. The tendency to blindness and self-delusion
affecting us all needs to be countered by the truth and reality conveyed by the
Holy Spirit: the truth shall make you free.
Thus our decisions, and more broadly our pattern of life is more likely
to be in accord with the will of God if we consciously treat them as topics of
prayer and gain a wider and different perspective than we would otherwise have
had.
On the other
hand, there is something defective about the naive model of praying in order to
have God reveal a planned course of action which you would not have
thought of yourself (“rely not on your understanding”). We cannot explore here the questions about
God’s providence and foreknowledge except to deny that there is a “roadmap” in
the mind of God concerning the details of our lives, and it is our job to find
out what God has in mind for us–what our career will be, whom we will marry,
and so on.
There are
several problems, of course, with this view.
There is the philosophical and existential concern in relation to God’s
foreknowledge, a sense that we are in a deterministic world if the all-knowing
Observer knows in minute detail what we are going to do. If there is divine foreknowledge of this sort
(and many orthodox Christians will lean in this direction), then there is force
in the line of argument developed by D. M. Mackay that human freedom is
preserved only and precisely because the Omniscient does not communicate
that knowledge to us.6
In other words, if God knows exactly whom you will marry, the last thing
He would do (in the interest of your freedom)is communicate that knowledge to
you.
Within
conservative evangelical circles a while ago considerable discussion took place
in response to the book Decision Making and the Will of God.7 He attacked the notion that God has a
detailed plan for each individual which he communicates if we are in proper
touch; he argued that God has a general will for the kind of job or
spouse best for us, but have the freedom to make the specific individual
selection in accordance with our personalities and circumstances, and that we
should not waste energy wondering if we have missed God’s plan by selecting the
wrong individual or made a faulty career choice..
The ethics
of Karl Barth is well known for requiring each individual action to be
commanded by God. Each situation is new
and unique, and we ought not to presume ahead of time by rules of thumb or
principles what our decision is going to be.
Thus the kind of casuistry in which we work out hypothetical moral
problems on the basis of certain principles is dangerous because it encourages
in us the illusion of control and independence from God.
There are
ways of understanding Barth’s teaching that soften or counteract some of the
apparent difficulties. What we need to
draw from Barth here is in terms of attitude rather than content. Barth did not at all envision that every
decision to be made requires a passive waiting for God’s unpredictable
command. The emphasis is rather on the
attitude that the unique features of a situation may mean that the normal
course is not correct this time. This
attitude is in a way indicated by the conceptual gap between moral reasoning
and the judgment of conscience “I should do this here and now.” There is an element of the personal and
unique in the application of moral reasoning to a decision to act, and this
might take the concerns of Barth more seriously by emphasizing the role of the
Holy Spirit in the act of judgment, and in removing the kind of automatic
confidence about the correct course of action and encouraging the kind of prayer that can begin
to deal with blindspots, delusions, and assumptions about our competence and
reliance on ordinary human wisdom.
St. Thomas
came down clearly on the side of Christian’s responsibility and freedom to make
decisions as a matter of mature responsibility.
In fact, the imago Dei was understood by Aquinas to consist in
the fact that we are master and originator of our actions – we use our free
choice, liberum arbitrium to generate actions.8
Far from
being independent from God, however, Thomas talked about the link between our
little arena of action and divine providence.
God allows us to share in his providential governance of the universe by
making decisions and acting in accordance with his divine sovereignty. This of course is not restricted to
Christians: parents who give their child a good education, the judges and legal
officials who make it possible for criminals to be punished (and innocent
people vindicated) are acting in accordance with God’s will for human society.
The
challenge for us is to go beyond the realm of good actions governed by general
grace which are pretty clear to most people.
We need to be able to understand when the path of discipleship requires
the kind of self-denial which does not come naturally; when instead of
retaliation we turn the other cheek; how to speak the truth in love; how to act
when the claims of loyalty and friendship may conflict with the Kingdom of God;
in short, how to be in the world but not of it.
Here Barth and St. Thomas are at one.
Knowing God’s will at this level cannot be a matter of ready-made
answers. There must be a continual
illumination by the Holy Spirit made possible by our union with Christ and
growth in grace. As St. Paul put it in
Romans 12:2:
Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God–what is good and acceptable and perfect.
1 Summa Contra Gentiles III, 122, as
cited in On the Truth of the Catholic Faith, Summa contra Gentiles,
trans. Vernon Bourke (Garden City, NJ: Doubleday, 1956), p. 143.