On the Other Hand:

The Moral Dimension to Making Difficult Decisions

A Sermon by the Reverend Jonalu Johnstone of First Unitarian Church

Sunday January 22, 2006

 

Readings

From “The World According to Mr. Rogers” 

I’ve had lots of heroes – lots of people I’ve wanted to be like.  To this day, I can still feel the excitement in 1944 as I opened the first installment of my Charles Atlas exercise course.  …Many months and many lessons later, I still didn’t look like Charles Atlas….

My next hero was a “big man on campus” in our high school:  Jim Stumbaugh.  He could do anything.  A letterman in basketball, football, and track, he made all A’s.…  Many years after high school … Jim’s teenage son was killed in an automobile accident….The way he lived through that terrible time and the way he lived through his own years of cancer confirmed my pick of a hero.  Jim started out looking like Charles Atlas, ended up looking like Mahatma Gandhi.  What’s amazing to me is that he always acted like that peace-filled Gandhi.

Yes, Gandhi’s one of my heroes… Gandhi and Albert Schweitzer and Jane Addams (that tireless advocate of internationalism and world peace), …

So those are some of my heroes now:  the Charles Atlases of my elder years!  They’re the kind of people who help all of us come to realize that “biggest” doesn’t necessarily mean “best,” that the most important things of life are inside things like feelings and wonder and love – and that the ultimate happiness is being able sometimes, somehow to help our neighbor become a hero too.

Micah 6:8

…what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

 

Meditation & Prayer

Before the wonders of life we acknowledge our failures to see and to revere; before the sanctities of life we are ashamed of our disrespects and indignities; before the gifts of life we own that we have made choice of lesser goods, and here today seek the gifts of the spirit; before the heroisms of life we would be enlarged to new devotion.  Von Ogden Vogt

 

On the Other Hand:

The Moral Dimension to Making Difficult Decisions

A Sermon by the Reverend Jonalu Johnstone of First Unitarian Church

Sunday January 22, 2006

 

Have you ever done something that you knew was wrong even as you were doing it?  Somehow, though, you felt justified – that the other person deserved your unkindness or that the lie wouldn’t hurt anything, or that it was just too blame inconvenient to do what was exactly right at this particular moment?  Of course you have.  I know I have.  And those occasions have made me feel bad enough – and frankly, have had bad enough consequences at least a few times – that I try to do better – mostly.

That’s not my greatest moral struggle, though.  We all know temptation and when we give in to temptation.  For doing wrong when we know it’s wrong, all we can do is seek forgiveness from anyone who’s been offended and go on, hoping to do better in the future and to learn from our errors.  I know that’s easier said than done.

But I want to talk about something even harder.  Yes, it’s tough to resist temptation and easy to give in to the convenience of getting what we want.  But you don’t need me to tell you what to do in those cases.  If you don’t listen to your own best advice, why would you listen to mine?

What I want to talk about is a greater challenge -- figuring out what’s right in the first place.  This world has gotten so complicated.  I vividly remember a TV commercial – though I can’t remember what it was for – where the cashier asks “Paper or plastic?” and the customer in her head reels through all the implications of one choice or the other, basically deadlocked, frozen, unable to commit to the repercussions and consequences that might come from answering this deceptively simple question:

“Paper or plastic?”

You’d think a choice between two options would be simple.

Narrowing the options does not solve the puzzle.  Each choice has dimensions that are purely personal preference conglomerated with financial implications, environmental impacts, and yes, even moral dimensions.

Bombarded by information, we are finding all kinds of choices more and more difficult.  Psychology professor Barry Schwartz has written about it in The Paradox of Choice:  Why More is Less, documenting how selecting a pair of jeans or a box of crackers has become a monumental task.  What is the difference between loose fit and relaxed fit?  Between whole grain and whole wheat?  Or a thousand other shades of selection?  And that’s for relatively easy, inconsequential options.  It gets worse.  Investment experts have found that once a retirement fund offers more than 10 choices – and the average fund offers 14 -- participation in the fund actually declines.  Like a deer in headlights, we freeze when confronted with more alternatives than we can evaluate.

So, with all these choices in our lives – some trivial, some deeply affecting our lives and futures, how do we factor in the moral element?  How do we make sure our choices are moral?

I don’t think Unitarian Universalists much like the word “moral.”  It evokes images of Carrie Nation sweeping bottles of booze onto the floor to urge on Prohibition or judges peering into bedrooms to restrict our sexual expression.  Morality seems so judgmental and critical.  We prefer to leave morality to those who seem to know – and care -- so much more about it.  That’s a mistake. 

Morality is not a touchstone to cast aside; every day we are confronted with decisions that involve good and bad.  How we teach our children.  How we treat strangers and loved ones.  How we spend our money.  How we use our free time.  Every time we act, we live out our values.  That is what morality is – doing right or wrong in our daily lives. 

Sometimes, people claim that morality has no place in particular arenas.  I ran across one story about an argument at the 1984 Democratic convention, where Hart delegates accused Mondale representatives of immoral tactics.  Louisiana Governor Edwin Edwards is quoted as responding: "Immorality?  What's all this talk about morality? This is a political convention!"  [“Dancing Larry,” http://www.unbossed.com/index.php?itemid=155]

Unlike the Governor, I can’t think of a single area of life where morality is irrelevant.  Though most acute in the relations with others, because we are social animals, morality matters even when we are alone in the dark.

This fall in Adult Religious Education, we worked through a curriculum by The Rev. Dick Gilbert on “Ethics,” an extension of his well-known “Building Your Own Theology.”  That title of “ethics” is more comfortable for us than morality.  Ethics, the traditional name of the branch of theology or philosophy that studies – well, morality – but “ethics” sounds less judgmental or personal.  But there’s no question that the word “morality” is weightier.  Think of the difference between an unethical act and an immoral one.  Both are bad, but somehow immorality is worse.  Even if the act itself is one and the same.

I want to talk about moral decision-making, because I do want to get personal.  I don’t want the distance of ethical stances, codes, or study.  I want to get down to the hard stuff – right and wrong, good and evil – or at least better, and worse.

What makes that tough in a Unitarian Universalist setting is our broad-based sources of authority.  While we recognize the authority of many texts – including ones that contradict each other, we don’t have a single scripture or set of rules that tells us what’s right and wrong – no Ten Commandments, no Torah, no Analects of Confucius.  We might read, consider, draw on, be inspired by any and all of these, but we don’t say you must abide by these rules, or else.  While we mostly agree that it’s wrong to kill, to lie, to steal, to commit adultery, we can also construct scenarios where the offense would be outweighed by the circumstances.  By refusing to oversimplify our approach to morality, we lose the primary benefit of a simple rule-based system – clarity.

Instead, we leave moral decision-making – like development of a belief system -- to each individual.  We say – and this is a radical statement – people, or at least adults, can – and even must – be trusted to make their own moral decisions.  As your ministers, Mark and I cannot tell you what is right and wrong.  We can’t point you to a book that will give you the answer.  We can’t even tell you to take it to God in prayer confident that you will receive wisdom.  We can only invite you to consult your own conscience.  Frankly, I wish I could issue edicts on right and wrong; I just know it’s – well, wrong.  

I was talking to someone recently – not from this church, I will note, but a Unitarian Universalist – who was insisting that someone simply needed to be told that he had to use particular language in a particular way because it was the right thing to do.  Sorry, it doesn’t wash, not in a UU setting.  No one has the authority to require that sort of modification of behavior.

Does that mean we have no standards, and can enforce nothing?  Of course not.  We state expectations for membership in the church.  If you go away, quit showing support for the church, don’t tell us anything about what’s going on – you will likely be removed from the membership rolls.  No hard feelings, you simply haven’t lived up to what it means to be a member, so you’re not one anymore.  If you disrupt worship – or a class – you will be asked to leave.  If you threaten others or break the law, we don’t ignore it.  These are issues of covenant – our agreement to walk together, to be respectful of one another and the institution.   We care about each another and the effects we have on one another. 

Some of our groups, including our Covenant Groups and our Board of Trustees have developed explicit covenants about how they want to be together.  These are rules of a sort – but they are agreed upon by the members of the group, and are enforced by the group, primarily through self-monitoring, but also through gentle reminders when necessary – not only from leaders of the group, but from other members as well.  In these ways, we are a decidedly egalitarian operation.  Anyone who is part of that agreement has the authority to help enforce it, but everyone is ultimately responsible only for his or her own behavior.  Let me remind you again what a radical statement that is in a world that is often run by bullying, domineering, manipulation, and commandment – if not by outright fear and terror.  We base our agreements on how to be together on an expectation of personal responsibility.

Responsibility – an essential component of morality.  I wonder about people who throw trash on the highway.  Their message is, “I’m not responsible for the cleanliness of this street.”   Yet, if you accept that our lives are interdependent, how can you avoid responsibility for your own trash on that stretch of highway that you travel?  You may not be responsible to walk the stretch and pick up the trash, as we do on 13th Street, but surely you are responsible for not contributing to the mess. 

Now, this whole responsibility question gets complicated when you think about the complexity of our daily decision-making.  To what degree am I responsible for the well-being of workers I hire or supervise?  What about those who work for me in government – or the church?  How ‘bout the ones who manufacture the clothing I wear?  Am I responsible for the appearance of my neighborhood?  For my water consumption in a time of drought?  For recycling everything that I can, whether or not reasonable accommodations are available?  Am I responsible for my use of fossil fuels in a time when fears about oil can lead to wars and economic strife?   How about for where my money goes when it leaves my hands?  We can set artificial boundaries around what we accept responsibility for, yet if we follow out the consequences, so many of our behaviors affect the world around us in moral ways.  Is there anything we are not responsible for?

Taken to its extreme, taking responsibility leads directly to that place of paralysis.  How can we live in a complex world without using more than our share of resources?  How can we live without exploiting other people?  How can we live an impeccably ethical life?  We can’t.  Not in this imperfect world.  Yet, we cannot stop trying.

Beverly and I were talking about the words to the anthem the choir sang – “I, like a shining light, will brighten the world.”  Great piece, but really, isn’t it just a tad narcissistic?   Unitarian Universalists do a great deal of good in this world – I have been amazed when I’ve seen how many progressive organizations started their meetings in Unitarian church basements.  Our sense of personal responsibility pushes many of us towards environmental integrity; towards activism for choice on the issue of abortion; towards support for gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people; towards racial justice; towards peace.  It also pushes us towards borderline craziness as we strive to perfect not just ourselves but the entire world.

That’s where it’s helpful for me to have something to take me off the moral hook, and leave some responsibility to somebody else.  I call that somebody else God.  You can call it the spirit of humanity, or the moral arc that bends towards justice or anything else you please.  But recognize that you aren’t personally responsible for the morality of the world.  If the personal discipline of walking rather than driving, or avoiding big box stores, or conserving energy, energizes you and makes your life more meaningful, by all means do those things.  If such practices deplete and depress you because of their small magnitude, then it may be time to reexamine what those things mean to you, what you’re expecting of yourself and of the world. 

I don’t mean to belittle anyone’s efforts towards making the world a better place.  I only implore you to recognize that you’re only one person.  I love to call on the serenity prayer for that discernment: 

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

The courage to change the things I can,

And the wisdom to know the difference.

And once we decide on change, how do we decide the morally of the methods to achieve that change?  Are immoral means justified by a greater moral goal?

            Here’s what activist Saul Alinsky had to say:

If you actively opposed the Nazi occupation, and joined the underground resistance, then you adopted the means of assassination, terror, property destruction, the bombings of tunnels and trains, kidnapping, and the willingness to sacrifice innocent hostages to the end of defeating the Nazis. Those who opposed the Nazi conquerors regarded the Resistance as a secret army of selfless, patriotic idealists, courageous beyond expectation and willing to sacrifice their lives to their moral convictions. To the occupation authorities, however, these people were lawless terrorists, murderers, saboteurs, assassins, who believed that the end justified the means, and were utterly unethical according to the mystical rules of war. Any foreign occupation would so ethically judge its opposition. However, in such conflict, neither protagonist is concerned with any value except victory. It is life or death. [Rules for Radicals, pp. 26-27]

I’m enough of a pragmatist to accept Alinsky’s word that sometimes the right thing to do is morally repugnant.  I’m also enough of a pragmatist to understand that a sense of moral righteousness can lead not only to error, but to arrogance.  If it’s necessary to do what I know is wrong, I want to feel the indignity of it, to be remorseful about the effects – even while proceeding with it, if the ends are truly vital.  This is life in the land of moral ambiguity – a tough place to live.

That’s not where I want to be.  I want to be Gandhi-esque.  I want to fully live my values every day, honoring every person, being fully present, never disrespectful or dismissive.  I want to act with love as my central tenet unswervingly.  I want to be Mr. Rogers.  I believe that that is how utopia comes to life, how we experience what Jesus called the Kingdom of God, and Buddha called Enlightenment.  But my faith simply does not carry me far enough in this.  Sometimes, doing wrong may be the right – or at least the better -- thing to do.

“Moral relativism!” wail our critics.  Indeed.  Since moral determinations rest with individual people, their situations will affect their decisions.  During the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, some folks called for shooting all looters.  Others tried to make a distinction – there’s a difference, they said, between the woman taking food and diapers for her children and the one carting out a TV set.  When we don’t know all the circumstances of a situation, the moral choice may appear clear.  Maybe, we simply can’t see the other hand.

So, where does that leave us?  I have talked all around a number of the factors related to morality – responsibility, intention, motivation, situation.  I have avoided giving hard and fast rules or guidelines.  So, what are we to do?

Let me conclude with a story that comes from Tolstoy.  I shared this with the “Ethics” class. If you have heard it before, it bears repetition:

One day it occurred to a certain emperor that if he only knew the answers to three questions, he would never stray in any matter.

What is the best time to do each thing?

Who are the most important people to work with?

What is the most important thing to do at all times?

….The emperor resolved to visit a hermit, [an enlightened man] who lived up on the mountain …  So the emperor disguised himself as a simple peasant and ordered his attendants to wait for him at the foot of the mountain while he climbed the slope alone to seek the hermit. 

Reaching the holy man’s dwelling place, the emperor found the old hermit laboriously digging a garden in front of his hut… The emperor approached him and said, “I have come here to ask your help with three questions:  What is the best time to do each thing?  Who are the most important people to work with?  What is the most important thing to do at all times?”

The hermit listened attentively but only patted the emperor on the shoulder and continued digging.  The emperor said, “You must be tired.  Here, let me give you a hand with that.”  The hermit thanked him, handed the emperor the spade and then sat down on the ground to rest.  One hour passed, then two.  Finally the sun began to set behind the mountain.…

Just then they both saw a man with a long white beard emerge from the woods.  He ran wildly, pressing his hands against a bloody wound in his stomach.  The man ran toward the emperor before falling unconscious to the ground, where he lay groaning.  The emperor cleaned the wound thoroughly and then used his own shirt to bandage it.  The emperor ran down to the stream and brought back a jug of fresh water.

The hermit gave the emperor a hand in carrying the man into the hut where they laid him down on the hermit’s bed to sleep.  When he awakened he saw the emperor, stared at him intently and then said in a faint whisper, “Please forgive me.”

“But what have you done that I should forgive you?” the emperor asked.

“You do not know me, your majesty, but I know you.  I was your sworn enemy, and I had vowed to take vengeance on you, for during the last war you killed my brother and seized my property.  I resolved to surprise you on your way back and kill you.  I came across your attendants, who recognized me, giving me this wound.  Luckily, I escaped and ran here.  If I hadn’t met you I would surely be dead by now.  I had intended to kill you, but instead you saved my life!  Please grant me your forgiveness.”

The emperor …not only forgave the man but promised to return all the man’s property and to send his own physician and servants to wait on the man until he was completely healed.… Before returning to the palace the emperor wanted to repeat his three questions one last time.  He found the hermit sowing seeds in the earth they had dug the day before.

The hermit stood up and looked at the emperor.  “But your questions have already been answered.”

“How’s that?” the emperor asked, puzzled.

“If you had not taken pity on my age and given me a hand with digging these beds, you would have been attacked by that man on your way home.  Then you would have deeply regretted not staying with me.  Therefore, the most important time was the time you were digging in the beds, the most important person was myself, and the most important pursuit was to help me.

“Later, when the wounded man ran up here, the most important time was the time you spent dressing his wound, for if you had not cared for him he would have died and you would have lost the chance to be reconciled with him.  Likewise, he was the most important person, and the most important pursuit was taking care of his wound.

“Remember that there is only one important time and that is now.  The present moment is the only time over which we have dominion.  The most important person is always the person you are with, who is right before you, for who knows if you will have dealings with another person in the future?  The most important pursuit is making the person standing at your side happy, for that alone is the pursuit of life.”

It’s not a perfect answer.  On the other hand, I have no better one.

May your moral choices bring you pride, rather than regret; honor rather than shame; promising rather than disappointing outcomes; humility rather than arrogance.  When you err, may you find forgiveness and reconciliation.  When you have been wronged, may you find the path to extend the same.  So may it be.  AMEN

Closing Words

Finally, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.  Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen…, and the God of peace will be with you.  (Philippians 4:8-9)

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