My ethical stance, which belongs in the category of “Virtue Ethics,” is that of “situationism” and I have been most influenced at this point by Joseph Fletcher in his book, Situation Ethics.  He says that every situation of moral choice has three elements, each of  which he identifies with a Greek word: 

  • Sophia—or wisdom, by which he means the rules and principles of one’s society–church, community, nation.  These have been developed over time and are usually adequate for making ethical decisions and we should follow them most of the time.
  • Agape–the NT word for love that means concern for the well-being of others, not in the sentimental sense, but in the sense of acting, even sacrificically, for the good of others.
  • Kairos—one of the words for “time,” meaning the uniqueness of the moment in which the decision must be made.

In oversimplified, plain English, this means that I believe rules and principles alone, as important and inevitable as they are, to be inadequate for making all moral choices. They cannot “cover all the bases” and the attempt to make them do so results in the multiplying of rules and sub-rules and precedents and exceptions—the kind of ponderous and unmanageable casuistry that, for example, Jesus confronted among the Pharisees of his day and that he declared to be bankrupt.

Rather, I believe that I must confront my moral choices armed with what I inevitably possess and do not wish to disown—

  • the wisdom of the past,
  • the rules of my culture,
  • the guidance to be found in the basic teachings of Jesus,
  • and the shared values gleaned from other religions (thus my coming “hiatus”)—

all seen through the filter of what I have acknowledged in previous posts to be my prime value: the supreme worth of human personality.

Each ethical dilemma is new and cannot be prejudged or predecided, and my responsibility for my own choice is non-transferrable—not to another person, not merely to a set of rules. While rules and principles usually suffice, sometimes they have not and they may not again. That means, for example, that even each of the Ten Commandments must be followed by the word “usually.” If what I value most—the supreme worth and dignity of persons and a selfless, loving wish for the good of other persons—seems best served by the alteration or abandonment in a given situation of a normally adequate rule or principle, I am prepared to do just that, and to regard it not as a “permissible immorality” but as the most moral act possible in that situation.

To return to the Ten Commandment, here are a couple of examples in which, for me, the modifier, “usually,” has come into play.

  • If not “bearing false witness” can stand for “though shalt not lie,” I have on rare occasion told a lie because I believed that in that unique situation, the well-being of a friend or colleague was best served by telling, with a straight face, what I knew to be an untruth.
  • Another commandment, to ”honor your father and your mother,” is one that, for the most part, I have found adequate and that my parents normally made it easy to have kept. But on an occasion or two, I believed that one or both of my parents acted or spoke in a way that was unfair or potentially damaging to one of my children or my spouse, and in that rare set of circumstances I could not honor or let stand my parents’ acts or words.

As you can see, “virtue” ethics, and certainly in this particular version, carries no guarantees.  One is called upon to act according to a clear principle, but the application of that principle in a unique set of circumstances becomes the responsibility of the person making the choice.

With the exception of a welcome “open door to comments” by any who care to share their own ethical stance, this ends these reflections on “knowing ourselves,” as well as any other blogs “On the Boundaries” for at least the next couple of months. During that period I look forward to having some time to pursue a better understanding of the major religions of the world. To that purpose and until “the boundaries” awaken again,

Let the “Hiatus” Begin!

6 Responses

  • Joyce Compton Brown

    Thank you so much, Earl, for this clear explanation of the situational ethics, basic to my sense of morality. Anyone who has engaged with students, certainly at Gardner-Webb, has experienced conditions requiring situational, not dogmatic, morality. How else could we live with ourselves. I didn’t know the term when I first recognized the necessity. I’m sure people in administration confront the choice between absolutism and some adjustments to the system not infrequently. I know you did the right, logical, compassionate thing in such situations. I cannot wax eloquent and knowledgeable about such subjects. You have been invaluable in your approachable words of wisdom and intellect.

    Reply
    • Earl Leininger

      Thank you so very much for taking the time to read what I have written, Joyce. You are such an accomplished writer of both poetry and prose that I always cringe just a little, alongside my gratitude, when I know you’ve read my words. While I can’t imagine giving you information you don’t already have, I’m very humbly appreciative if I was able to give you a label and some descriptive information that you found helpful. Clearly you knew, understood, and practiced this manner of moral choice long before you could name it–and guess which is more important! You are correct that, while in my 2o years in the classroom there was for me, as for you, times when this was important, I did face a different kind of ethical dilemmas when I moved to the “dark side” for the last 25 years. Thanks for your kind words but, while I do hope I possessed an active intellect, I’ve never thought I had the wisdom that I have seen in others. It’s humbling that you think you do.

      Reply
  • David Johnson

    Outstanding examples. I particularly liked the one about your parents. I, perhaps more often than you, often found myself in conflict with my father. In the end, I think he did the best he could, and it was plenty good enough. And, I honored him the best I could, and I hope it was good enough. But, there are things about all of us that are less than honorable, I think, and I’m not going to pretend those things should be honored or respected. Not in myself, and not in others. I guess that’s my “line in the sand.” I’ll tell a falsehood if it serves another person better than telling them the truth (like your first example), but I won’t grant them respect just because they are a family member or an elder. Respect must be earned.

    I honor your need and your reason for your hiatus. At the same time, dear one, I can’t wait to hear what you’ve learned when you return. Refresh yourself and learn all you can. You are a living stream of wisdom which feeds so many of us.

    Reply
    • Earl Leininger

      Thanks, David, as always, for taking the time to read and for your always helpful and insightful comments. I appreciate your letting me–and anyone else who happens to read these comments–where you stand, where your “line i the sand” is. I couldn’t agree more, by the way, that respect isn’t something we just offer to someone because they have some sort of “standing”–it does have to be earned!

      I am looking forward to the hiatus and the chance to dig in to the major world religions, as well as some other things. I appreciate your kind words about what I might have to offer, but I’ve got to figure out the “wisdom” thing. So often someone–as you have done– says that I have it, but I honestly don’t know where that observation comes from or how I could possibly possess it. I do believe I see it in your writings and insights, but I don’t see that depth and/or insight in my own. Oh, well.

      Reply
  • Kimberly

    I believe this was the post that most resonated with me, Earl. I share your stance and also acknowledge how delicate a balance this presents both for the person making an ethical choice and the one(s) on the receiving end. May you have a fruitful time away.

    Reply
    • Earl Leininger

      You are absolutely right, Kimberly. While decisions made from this ethical stance are “usually” not difficult, there are those “situations” that present the exact delicate balance that you you describe. And yet, clearly, neither of us would have it any other way. I do look forward to this time away and, as we discussed, trust that you will, as you can, join me in the reading and reflecting on it.

      Reply

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