BACK TO BASICS?
Anthony Freeman John Major has called us "back to basics" in our personal and social values. Government ministers have accused the churches of failing to give adequate moral guidance to the young. The BBC is sufficiently interested to give prime radio time to the question, "Who is now setting the moral agenda - religious leaders or politicians?" From a Sea of Faith point of view, religion is a human creation and has no business trying to impose divine moral absolutes. But if religion has any value at all, surely it must have some role to play in enhancing the quality of our lives?
A traditional prayer for those trying to live the good life puts the matter thus: "Grant that they may both perceive and know what things they ought to do; and also may have grace and power to fulfil the same". We need both to know what is good and right and have the strength of will to carry it out. We are like musicians who require both an understanding of the score and the practical skill to turn it into music; or like sportsmen who need to know the rules of their game and also have the physical stamina to play through to the end. I believe there is still a place for religion on both the theoretical and practical sides of morality.
It is the first and invariable rule of Christian ethics that, where the individual's conscience gives a clear ruling for or against a course of action, that conscience should always be obeyed. It is therefore vital that each of us educates our conscience so that it (i) knows some basic moral principles, (ii) has some skill in handling conflicting principles which point towards opposing courses of action, and (iii) is able to distinguish between the voice of conscience and that of prejudice or selfish desire.
Taking each in turn, then: (i) Where do we find our basic moral building blocks? Tradition has distinguished three sources: natural law (built into the fabric of the universe and discernible by observation), divine law (made known only by special revelation), and human law (made on the basis of the other two).
I do not accept the idea of absolute laws either natural or divine, but I do see their importance in the traditional scheme. They acted as a check on human law. Kings and princes were accountable to some higher authority. We still need that safeguard. I prefer to speak of guides rather than laws, and to distinguish two kinds only: general moral principles (which are universal) and particular rules for putting them into practice (which will vary with circumstances). Only the latter are the proper business of politicians. The former are the responsibility of us all.
The religious traditions, viewed as an accumulation of human wisdom, still have much to offer us in this area. Religious leaders have a role in keeping the overarching principles before the eyes of the politicians amidst their practical (and often short-term) concerns. (ii) The art (or science) of applying basic principles to particular cases is known as casuistry. The name conjures up images of sleek black Jesuits. The "rules for breaking the rules" is one less-than-flattering definition. But do not condemn too hastily. Every day we make decisions which involve weighing mercy against justice, truth against kindness, duty towards one person against that towards another, etc. "Moral issues" only arise when two moral principles come into conflict. The skills of handling such conflicts remain similar even when our basis for determining the principles changes. The churches have in their heritage much of practical use in this field which could be made available to both individuals and societies who are wrestling with ethical dilemmas. (iii) Both discerning and applying moral principles are proper tasks for religion but are not exclusive to it. It is perhaps with the third element in educating the conscience, the avoidance of self-deception, that religion still has a key role to play. There are two opposite dangers. Laxity is the tendency always to hear the voice of conscience dictating the things I want to do in any case. Scrupulosity is a disposition always to blame myself for making wrong or selfish judgements unless they are clearly to my own disadvantage or against my natural inclinations. The condition is less common than laxity but more painful to deal with, because it only afflicts morally sensitive people.
Guidance and support for those making moral decisions, whether personal or on behalf of the community, is an important service offered by religion. It has a long experience to draw on in fulfilling this task.
Determining what is right is half the battle, and has been the traditional task of moral theology. Developing the moral fibre to carry through our good intentions has been the role of ascetical theology (named from the training of Greek athletes). Here, it seems to me, is where purely secular society has nothing equivalent to offer its members. Here, if anywhere, is a desperate need which can still be met by religion, using its inherited resources, providing it is willing to be imaginative and undogmatic.
The three classic weapons in the fight to live holy lives are prayer, fasting and alms-giving. All three disciplines run across the boundaries of particular faith traditions. None of them requires belief in any particular doctrine of God. Their primary concern is the development of morally mature persons. Their method is to work on the individual for the ultimate benefit of all. They avoid the opposite dangers of a selfish individualism and a suffocating socialism. Most encouraging, under rather different names they are acknowledged as valuable today by many who would not perhaps call themselves religious and who may not be fully aware of the potential of these practices for moral growth.
It was the positive practice of such exercises, rather than preaching hellfire and damnation for the wicked, which made the saints of old. When politicians accuse the churches of preaching too little on judgement, and by implication of encouraging wickedness, they simply show their ignorance. Yet the churches are not blameless. They will need to care less for supernatural dogma and more for personal spiritual development if they are truly to help the individuals and society which they profess to serve.
Anthony Freeman is a parish priest and author of God in Us. He was dismissed last year from an administrative post in the diocese of Chichester for publishing his Sea of Faith views. 'OH YES IT IS! OH NO IT'S NOT!' Tim Miles In Sea of Faith 12 John Challenor refers to disputes by children which take the form "Yes-it-is, No-it-isn't". I suspect that the question of "whether God exists", as posed by theological realists, has reached similar deadlock. There can indeed be arguments, but by common consent they are not compelling; otherwise all but the logically perverse would have accepted them centuries ago. Does this mean, then, that the matter will continue to be disputed over the next thousand years? Will the issue be with us like an unsolved crossword puzzle - or even an unsolved murder - with no possible hope of finding the answer? The possibility seems daunting!