Ethically Speaking #2

Continuing the discussion from last week, I would like to share more of the responses from Global Ethics class. It is a class that I am co-teaching with another teacher. He focuses on presenting certain concepts through texts and lectures while I have the pleasure of challenging the students by presenting them with questions and scenarios that force them to apply a set of ethical standards or a decision-making process to a problem.

Working with these students has been nothing less than extraordinary for any number of reasons. The first reason has to be that rather than being told what is right and wrong, these students are being engaged and challenged to reveal what they feel is the proper course of action. It is a revelatory moment when all that we have taught them, all that they have learned and absorbed comes out in ways that we could not imagine. The second reasons is that it empowers these students, preparing them for the roles they will fulfill as adult members in our society. We as parents, educators, and others have placed enormous pressure on these students to perform and to live up to certain expectations. It is interesting to see how they interpret the values we have stated as most important when the moment comes to make a life-altering decision. Lastly, and one that concerns me on several levels is how these students, and through them gain a glimpse of the larger society, understand what it means to be moral. This is prefaced by stating the obvious: that my unique perspective comes finds its roots in the Gospel, in the Christian message concerning life and death, how we see ourselves and others created in the image of God.

While the first scenario challenged these students to make a moral decision that would effect individuals they had never met and formed a personal connection with, this new scenario does the exact opposite. It places two people are intimately close to the individual in seemingly direct conflict.

It is as follows:

If you are a woman, you are faced a difficult decision. You have just found that you have cancer. However, you are also three months pregnant. Your doctors have informed you that in order to survive you must begin radiation and chemotherapy immediately. However, doing so will terminate the pregnancy. If the pregnancy is allowed to continue to term the child will survive but you will not. Your husband has stated that this is your decision and that he will follow your wishes. A last factor to consider is that you have already given birth to one child who is 3 years old.

If you are man, you are being faced with the same scenario. The only change is that your spouse has given you the final decision as to whether or not she will undergo the life-saving treatment. She will follow your wishes.

In this limited hypothetical situation, no amount of science present or future will allow the child to be born now and survive. Also, no amount of treatment will allow the mother to survive to her passed her due date.

The question is clear: Does the mother undergo the treatment or not? What are some of the ethical questions present? What is your rationale for undergoing or forgoing the treatment? How does your definition of human life play into this?

It is easy to see why this question presents the reader with a plethora of concerns. It is a decision that would be deeply personal, painfully emotional, and require careful reflection. One is tempted to believe that there is no possibly correct answer. However, the purpose of the question in this exercise with these students is to convince them to reveal their beliefs and values, which as previously stated has been formed by many sources and influences. I also prefaced this scenario by saying that my wife and, like many young couples, have agonized over this decision and not come to a consensus demonstrating just how confusing it can be.

The student responses were fascinating. But as usual their thought processes are what revealed more. They began asking questions like: what's the mother's job? They also asked what the capacity was of the father to care for two children without another parent? But more than what they asked was what they contended. Some argued that because the mother had already lived a full life that it was not the baby's turn. Others disagreed and said that it was always possible to have another child later on. Still others became more direct, and more extreme by stating that there was not really an ethical decision because the baby was not technically alive or viable which fell into direct contrast with others who stated that innocent life with no voice was more valuable than a life who had a voice to defend itself.

This spurred a discussion on the value of human life which completely threw the class for a loop. I asked them, "what gives value to human life?". They responded with many of the standard answers our society provides.

"How educated you are. We've been taught that education is everything."

"Wealth. That way you can do more and be more."

"How much you can do for yourself and others."

I followed up by asking them if characteristics like race, creed, perceived beauty, language and other things made a difference. They answered by stating that it could potentially make a huge difference. Then I threw them a curveball. I asked them the question that each of us must face when we look in the mirror and we see others. "Does a human being possess a value, an inherent value, that is independent from the perceived value of others?".

A profound silence followed. They asked: "what other value could there be?"

And at that point my heart wept for them. It wept because we have taken great pains to build our children up by acknowledging and celebrating what they do. But we have not always acknowledged the value they have in our eyes and God's eyes simply for being. When I proposed that both the mother and the child had the same inherent value many of them balked at the idea.

"It hasn't done anything yet."

"It hasn't helped anyone, or learned to communicate, or even been born. How can it have the same value as an adult human?"

Therein lies the question. It is a question that many people around the world face in one form or another. It is where our self-interest and our perceived values of individuals meet. It is where the ethical dilemma becomes a dilemma.

At the end of the discussion I challenged the students to strip away everything about themselves and others that deals with what they do, both for themselves and others, and ask "what is left?". What I didn't tell them is that if what is left behind is nothing then we are left with a profound darkness. We are left with a deep chasm where our soul, our createdness in God used to be. As Christians we are called to view each other through the eyes of Christ. We are called to see now what men see but rather what God sees. What God creates he loves. What he loves he sustains. And what he sustains he reconciles to himself. The beginning of any argument about life and death must be at the point where God's creation meets our acknowledgement as co-creators with him. We do not create human life. Rather we are co-creators and stewards of it. After that realization come the integration of our personal experiences, our biases, our self-interests and most of all our brokenness.

I will not give the definitive answer for this scenario. I will not even give my decision. I will say that those agonize about it are certainly in tune with the tension that each of us faces when our consciences are in conflict. If we are preach the Gospel and to raise and educate children who will listen and act on it as well, we must begin by telling them that their value to us is great, but that their value to God is immeasurable.

Ethically Speaking #1

There are moments in life, I am sure, that we are absolutely floored by what we hear or witness. It can be an innocent comment or one that is made in a moment of unprecedented honesty. Either way, it is important to understand where what was said came from in the person who said it, and what in us reacts to that belief or thought.

I am currently working with another teacher in conducting a course in global ethics and literature. After my fiasco regarding the teaching of spirituality I have dramatically lowered my expectations about what these students have been taught about the realm of ethics and ethical thinking. Instead I set out to change my method. I would take the two days that I would be in the classroom not to lecture but to listen. I have found that the one thing students don't do enough of is sharing their opinion on something that is relevant to the world and to them. So rather than bore them with the theories of ethics (which I plan to do later), I would present them ethical dilemmas that test their decision-making processes and force them to choose what they would in a variety of situations.

The first one was a timely one. With the one year anniversary of the earthquake in Haiti I decided to test the reactions these students would have to being called to help. I gave them the following scenario.

You are a student at a college or university and the earthquake in Haiti has occurred. You have an indispensable skill that would save lives if you went down there. However, you also have exams that you must take. All but one of your professors will excuse you, giving you an extension. The last one will not relent and announced that you will fail if you do not take the exam when it is given. The added twist is that if you fail the exam you will lose your scholarship, your only means of paying for your education.

I posed this question with some conditions. You cannot appeal to a higher authority and the professor will not relent. You needn't worry about transportation or room and board while in Haiti. I also asked them to present a rationale for their decision which weighed the risks and consequences of either decision.

I was not shocked when I learned that the majority of the students decided to stay and not go to be a part of the humanitarian effort. Our society has placed such an emphasis on the importance of education that our very lives seem to be tied to what degree we earn and the money associated with the career we choose. What shocked me were the rationalizations.

One student rationalized that they could do more good by staying in school and graduating so that they could help more people later. Other students volunteered to aid the effort in other ways such as fund-raising and campaigning. These students were able to recognize their ethical obligation and come up with a solution. What concerned me were the students who had a knee-jerk reaction to the entire exercise and just decided not to go. One student went so far as to say that his life, his future, was considerably more valuable than these people in Haiti.

The point of the exercise was not to come up with a single correct answer. Following one's conscience is not as easy as it may seem. The point of the exercise was to determine if the students were able to have a process that they could use to make these decisions. What saddened me most was not so much that the students chose to stay when lives were at stake, lives that have the same inherent value as yours and mine.

Ethical quandries and conflicts are all around us. As Christians we are called to rely not on our standards but upon the standards that have been set for us by Jesus Christ. The question of "what would Jesus do" may same cliche but it is still no less valid. We are called to a higher purpose and a higher standard than the world. It is interesting to see how we react when called to tough ethical decisions that challenge our safety, our priorities, and our comfort level. Will we respond by what the world tells us to do, what seems rational and intelligent? Or will we respond by what Christ would have done, which flies in the face of the world's wisdom and society's standards? Ultimately, whom we decide to listen to is whom we decide to serve.

"Choose this day whom you will serve. But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord"

Joshua 24:15

Through a Hole in the Wall

It is officially a new year. Last night we reveled and celebrated. We bid adieu to the both the good and bad of the last year and set our sights on what this coming year would have in store for us. I've found with myself and most of the people that I know that the coming of the new year is a great occasion to analyze and assess our successes and failures. We look back on what went right and where we went wrong. Think of every website and television station that does a year end review or discusses the celebrities who have died since the last new year's eve celebration. The sole purpose of all this reflection is to change.

We look to change our relationships, our diets, our attitudes. We look to changing how we eat, how we treat others or let others treat us, and how we see the world. I'm equally guilty of this as last night saw me putting together an ambitious to do list for the coming year. Then I awoke the next morning energized and began cleaning. In theory these habits of new beginnings are not bad. In fact, many consider them to be spiritual and downright Christian. We are called to turn away from what we have done wrong and begin a new life. So we conclude that we must strengthen ourselves in some way, increase our resolve...have a greater resolution!

But in the end all that strength is for naught. It is a lie because we are telling ourselves that we can do it of our own accord, or our own will. In reality, if we had been able to accomplish these ambitious goals of fundamentally changing who we are then we would have done it a long time ago. So what was missing? It's easy to just insert "God" and then move on. But what's more difficult is to discern how God plays a role in changing who we are.

To answer this question we must walk away from everything that this world tells us. We have to engage God on his terms and allow him to change us. In essence, rather than strengthen our resolve we must weaken it. We must weaken our resolve that tells us that we can do all things, know all things, and be all things. We must drop the walls that keep us from God and his ways. I venture to guess that when Saint Paul was discussing weakness and how that when he was weak he was actually strong that he might have meant something like this. His weakness, be it physical, spiritual, emotional, or mental, provided the hole through which God could be allowed to come in and be Paul's strength. I see so many people who are hurt by abusive relationships, deaths in their family, failures both professional and personal and they all ask the same question: "Where is God?" I want to tell them same answer: God is there with you if just let down your wall and let him in.

So while new year's resolutions are to my house ready for the big move, to be a better husband, father, and chaplain, it is more than anything to let the God who loves me love. Perhaps if I lower my wall just enough God can sneak in and surprise me in the ways that only he knows how.

A Prayer for A New Year

Heavenly Father,

As a new year dawns I find myself further from whom I want to be.

I find myself further from you. Help me to lower my walls and defenses

and surrender my heart to your Son, Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ,

Who reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, One God forever and ever. Amen

Happy New Year!

Caritas Begins in the Home.

I'm sure that driving through our neighborhoods we have seen houses just like this. The first two thoughts that enter my mind are "how did they get all those lights up there?" and "I wonder how much it costs to light that house right now?". I know, I'm a mood killer. You can call me a grinch if you like. And while I certainly celebrate the right of every person to decorate, or not decorate, their house as they see fit, I will call foul when they say that it's in the spirit of the Christmas season.

"We're preparing for the baby Jesus. You know shine the light for the light coming into the world." Wonderful sentiment but sorely off the mark. When I think of a home that is prepared for "the light of the world", I don't think of the perfect Christmas tree, Santa Claus and his sleigh lit in the front yard and a Mickey Mouse Nativity scene by the front door telling me to have "A Very Disney Christmas". Instead I think of the preparations that have taken place in the hearts of those inside the home. This becomes much more evident as the tensest moments of the Advent season (yep, I said Advent) wash over us like breakers. My wife and I finished all our Christmas shopping, decorated our tree, and began the holiday baking earlier than ever this year. But that didn't stop us from being frustrated with each other, about losing sleep with a crying baby, about relatives bickering senselessly with each other, and of course don't forget the dogs. It's during this season of preparation for celebrating Christ's birth that we need more than ever to think of his death and resurrection. We need to ask how he prepared himself; physically, emotionally, and spiritually to face the horrible trial he would endure to bring us back from exile and to the throne of the Father. We need to focus on our own hearts and if we are up to the task of following him.

Where does that begin? It begins with those who are closest to us in proximity but more often than not furthest from our hearts. I am speaking of family. I am speaking of the relatives with whom we make small talk for a few moments, exchange a Christmas card and a fruit cake (if you really don't like them) and then forget them for another year. Or worse, think of the relationship each of has with our siblings, parents, spouse, or children. Caritas was one of the Greek words for love. Many of the scriptures we interpret as talking about erotic love or the love between a man and wife are in fact talking about the most basic and necessary charity that every family needs. When I look at my wife and children my goal is to see not what they might do for me but rather how I might serve them. This is no easy task because I am by very nature a selfish person (just like everyone else). I struggle to love others in the way that God has called us all to love.

In the end, Christ did not come to the flashiest house or the home with the best comforts that money could buy. He came to the home with the greatest amount of love; a love that was given freely and without expectation of return. As we eagerly anticipate the celebration of Christ's birth tomorrow let us focus for just a moment on the home we have built in our hearts and not the one we have decorated. Let us hold one another closer as Mary and Joseph did as they gazed at the innocent child before them. If we can, then we can give a new meaning the phrase "Merry Christmas".

Do You Believe in Miracles?

Whenever I read that question I am always reminded of it being shouted at the end of the famous Olympic showdown between the then Soviet Union and the United States hockey teams. The spontaneous outburst arose because the U.S. victory had been a huge surprise.

However the question once again becomes relevant during this advent season because we are called to ponder the same question. Let's face facts, we live in an age of science and technology where miracles have taken a backseat with mythology and fairy tales as many scientists claim to be able to solve all the mysteries of the universe and debunk the core beliefs of faith. Faith in miracles is presented as a contradiction to reason and logic.

So how then are we as Christians to respond? I believe the answer lies not in what we know and understand but rather in the incompleteness of our knowledge and the limited nature of our human experience. The burden lies not on faith to prove the existence of miracles but rather upon science to disprove them. These may seem like flawed arguments but nonetheless they do bring to the center the discussion about what Christmas truly means more than any "Jesus is the reason for the season" bumper sticker.

The celebration of Christ's birth is itself a central declaration of faith. One cannot be a Christian and deny the virgin birth. While the empty tomb challenges our notions of death and the possibility of Jesus conquering death, the empty manger would also present us with an equally difficult question as we wonder how else could God have come into the world? There are many parts to this argument presented by far more intelligent theologians than I but at the core lies one simple fact: God became man to share in man's experience, and through that sanctification of man's experience bring man back to the divinity he was supposed to share with God from the beginning. It is not that human beings become like God in the same way we attempted in the garden and the fall, but rather we attain the true life we were gifted with but relinquished through sin.

Our images of God have been found in countless forms across history. We find God as the father, the man with the white beard, the judge and all-powerful creator. These are often comfortable because they provide a distance between us and God. But when the word becomes flesh we find that the distance becomes zero. God has become man. God shares in our innocence and frailty, our vulnerability and suffering. Turning to that God, the one who has lived a life like us, save sin, is a much harder God to accept. This God limits himself, surrenders his divinity in a way we never could. He takes on a face like our own, one that cry, smile, and yes even laugh. That God is almost a little too close to home.

This Christmas our focus should be not just on the miracle but on the actual gift given to us by God. Christ's coming into the world signals not just the arrival of our savior, but the closeness that God desires from us. He doesn't want us to keep him at arms length. He wants us to hold him in our arms. He wants us to be a family.

The Light of the World

There are something that we see that defy the boundaries of cuteness. Yesterday I was privileged to see the prekindergarten class at my school do their telling of the Christmas story. What I found most interesting is that watching these little tykes engage one of the beautiful stories ever told genuinely fed my faith and made me focus spiritually on the reality of Jesus Christ having come into the world. Also, seeing our children participate in their faith gives us an assurance that our faith and traditions are being passed on to the next generation. The only downside is that when we see performances such as these we tend to focus on the storytellers and not the story. The familiarity of the story and the countless times we have heard it lends itself to experiencing the pride of a parent instead of the penitence of a hopeful sinner.

When they were done I began to relate to the parents and students present how watching these kids present this story made me immediately think of the birth of my own children. As a parent, you always remember the birth of your child. You remember the excitement tinged with anxiety and anticipation. The first moment you see your child's face freezes for an eternity as you look down and realize that your whole world, your definitions of life and love, have been shaken to their foundations. You may have never seen God but you are convinced that in this child's eyes God is present.

What I wanted them to see more than anything was that every birth is important to God, and going a step further, that every moment of creation of life is important to God. Christ could have chosen any way to come to us. But he chose the authentic human experience of the incarnation, of true innocence, humility, and vulnerability. As we journey to the day when we celebrate Jesus Christ coming into the darkness of our world we recognize just how bright his light truly is. It shatters the darkness.

Christ calls us to be the light of the world. I've told my students throughout this advent season that they are to intensify the light within them. They are to be lights to others, especially those who are in the darkness of despair and are without hope. This can be especially difficult when we are faced with tragedy. Personally I have struggled as I minister to those who have lost family and friends in this holiday season. But I know that darkness does not diminish the power of the light Christ is for us. If we focus on that light it will bring us closer to a God who longs to love us, to heal us, and to sustain us. The challenge for all of us remains to draw closer to that light, to embrace it, and to reflect that light to others.

Journey to the Light

With Thanksgiving securely behind us we now turn to the last and most important season left in the year: the shopping season. Of course I jest but I do so in a half-serious tone because for many people, even Christians, the season is less and less about the birth of Jesus Christ and more about the search for the perfect gift or purchase. It seemed to happen so subtly. We celebrated the advent season, a season of prayerful preparation towards that wonderful day where we commemorate the coming of our savior into the world, with songs and lessons about the the history and spirit of Christmas. We strove for ways to demonstrate how the love of God had touched us and how the gift of His Son had saved us by being charitable to others. But the gifts became more elaborate as the season became more commercialized. We found newer ways to shop, save money, and elicit that tell tale smile that lets us know that we have evoked a warm and fuzzy feeling in our loved one.

Then we began to succumb to the popular culture's desire to remove everything that is Christian from Christmas. They argued that Christmas was their holiday now. It didn't have to be about Jesus Christ. That was too narrow. It was about the "season of giving", that feeling we get inside that we get for doing a good deed. And while it is important to give we must acknowledge the greatest gift we have received (our salvation) and the greatest gift we can share (the love of God). So now sadly, Christmas has become an endangered holiday with countless distractions, anxiety over making the perfect dinner, decorating the perfect tree, and making the perfect memory.

The challenge then for Christians is to draw the focus away from the distractions back to the true meaning. I have been using an analogy all week with my students in chapel that I feel has edified both them and myself. Anytime we look up at the sky at night we are blessed to see a number of stars. But unfortunately most of us live in areas, both suburban and urban, that prevent us from seeing the brightest starts and even planets. To see them we must leave the comfort of the city and town to the country where the night sky is unchallenged by the light pollution. In a sense we remove the distractions, remove everything that was getting in the way of the light, to see what we were looking for all along. It is the same with this season. Can we be strong enough to push aside the materialism, the desire for self-fulfillment for the true focus of the season? Can we recognize the most brilliant light in the heavens that has come down to be one of us?

Each year I have seen so many people (I include myself in this guilty act) of loving a gift momentarily and then forgetting about it after a short while. That is the nature of the gifts we receive. We love for them a moment and then we love the next thing that comes along. But what if the gift of a savior, the gift we receive this season was meant to love us? What if that gift never lost interest or love for us? What if that gift came to reconnect us with a God who loves us as his wonderful creation made in His image? If we could recognize that gift under the tree then we wouldn't wish each other a "Merry Christmas". We would welcome each other as siblings in a reunited family. We would see the greatest light touch each of us in a way nothing else can.