On the 10 Commandments

[qos]

The ever-illuminating sakia139 posted this -- and I think it deserves to be distributed widely:

The Ten Commandments
Ben Daniel

Aired March 20, 2005, on KQED

On a recent Spring day I went hiking in the hills above Milpitas with
several friends. There were five of us. Four Presbyterian ministers
and one very secular lawyer. As we sat on the green grass looking out
through the clear air over the sparkling bay the lawyer asked us what
we thought about the placing of monuments to the Ten Commandments in
public spaces. We had a good discussion. But my contribution to the
discussion left me unsatisfied. Here's what I wish I had said.

So long as it's equitable, inclusive, and shows no favoritism, I am
all for a public celebration of religion. However, if someone wants to
honor my religious tradition, I'd rather they spent the money
otherwise earmarked for a graven image of the Ten Commandments on a
homeless shelter or a hunger program or a library or a school. Such
charity would bring greater honor to my faith tradition than would big
stone tablets reminding me, among other things, not to covet my
neighbor's donkey.

If a monument is needed, I'd rather it quoted the words of Jesus who
said "Blessed are the peace makers. For they shall be called the
children of God." Or the words of the prophet Micah, who instructed us
to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God.

But better than such monuments or one-time gifts to worthy causes
would be a public policy that gave ongoing support for the poor and
for the education of our children; governments at the local, state,
and federal levels that honored my faith tradition through
peace-making and the practice of justice, kindness, and humility.

And in honor of Jesus, who asked his followers to do their good deeds
in secret, I'd like for government to practice the virtues of my faith
without reference to my faith. For the work of sheltering the
homeless, of feeding the poor, of educating our children, the work of
peace-making, justice, kindness, and humility -- these are not just
celebrations of my faith, but they also honor every religious
tradition I know.

If everyone would forget about building monuments to the Ten
Commandments, and would focus instead on the practice of virtues
common to every religion, we would have a country that would be
actually moral, instead of apparently religious. And, fundamentally,
isn't that really what we all want?

With a perspective, this is Ben Daniel.

Comments

[amqu.livejournal.com]

I like America for two main reasons. Capitalism and the Constitution. Free markets give me Wal-Mart, and the First Amendment guarantees my freedom of religion. So I agree with his statement, "So long as it's equitable, inclusive, and shows no favoritism, I am all for a public celebration of religion."

But I can't help wondering if we view the reason for religion very differently. Personally, I don't care one way or the other about the public display of the ten commandments. I know where to find them in my Bible should I feel the need to reference them.

Mr. Daniel's essay seems to be promoting the idea that the reason for religion is to do good works. And that money spent by the government would be a good way to honor his religion of good works.

But better than such monuments or one-time gifts to worthy causes
would be a public policy that gave ongoing support for the poor and
for the education of our children; governments at the local, state,
and federal levels that honored my faith tradition through
peace-making and the practice of justice, kindness, and humility.

This may come as a shock to Mr. Daniel, but his government already has a public policy for ongoing support for the poor and for education of our children. And another shocker for Mr. Daniel: Human governments are not monolithic consciouses. They are made up of many, many humans of varying levels of goodness. Therefore, it is impossible to demand that government at any level honor his "faith tradition" with the practice of justice, kindness, and humility. The best he can hope for is a good system of checks and balances so that the most grievous transgressions can be punished and then rectified.

And here's the part where he really loses me, and I think what makes me deeply unsatisfied with his worldview:

And in honor of Jesus, who asked his followers to do their good deeds
in secret, I'd like for government to practice the virtues of my faith
without reference to my faith. For the work of sheltering the
homeless, of feeding the poor, of educating our children, the work of
peace-making, justice, kindness, and humility -- these are not just
celebrations of my faith, but they also honor every religious
tradition I know.

Why? Why would this government practice the virtues of his faith or any faith whatsoever? Is that it's purpose? The purpose of government is to protect its citizens. Anything more than that is gravy. And even the protection of its citizens is compromised by the venality of the humans in government.

It's as if he thinks he can separate the reason for the virtue from the practice of the virtue. As a Presbyterian minister, I'm assuming he teaches from the Bible. To the extent that the members of his flock aspire to justice, kindness and humility, it is because they are reaching for something higher. They are taught about God and who he is. They are taught what God considers virtuous and why. And they aspire to something greater. Their faith gives them strength.

I can't imagine it is so different in other religions. Atheists who believe that treating other people with respect have to have a reason for believing this way. They have had to develop a strong moral framework that can hold up under pressure.

The purpose of religion is not good works. The purpose of religion is worship. Good works is simply a side effect of our worship. Unless you're a Satanist in which case Mr. Daniel's argument really breaks down.

It is possible I am simply reading too much into a short essay which, out of context, could distort Mr. Daniel's full beliefs.

[quietearthling.livejournal.com]

"Personally, I don't care one way or the other about the public display of the ten commandments. I know where to find them in my Bible should I feel the need to reference them." This quote is a keeper. I am swiping it for future re-quoting: how can I give you full credit for it? :-)

[quietearthling.livejournal.com]

Hmmm... Ben Daniel for president? :-)

[amqu.livejournal.com]

Keep it, it's yours. ;)

Part I

[athenian-abroad.livejournal.com]

So long as it's equitable, inclusive, and shows no favoritism, I am
all for a public celebration of religion.

Like most members of mainline Christian denominations in America, Ben Daniel simply does not understand the reason for making a separation between church and state. This failure of understanding concerns me because it represents a direct threat to both religious liberty and to public peace from the very people who ought to be most careful to preserve both.

Over the last hundred and fifty years, America's mainline churches -- Episcopalians, Methodists, Presbyterians, Congregationalists, the "socially established" churches -- have become progressively more mild, tolerant, broad-minded, accepting and generous in matters of doctrine. And decades of ecumenical effort have led to a spirit of reconciliation with old foes, particularly with the Roman Catholic church and with Jews. Although deep theological differences remain ("Pity about all you Protestants going to hell...") we have arrived at a rudimentary code of civil behavior toward one another. Americans have been so successful in creating an atmosphere of tolerance -- in some social circles and strata, at least -- that many of us believe that the era of religious warfare is over forever, that any act of serious intolerance is essentially unthinkable.

So has all of America -- with the possible exception of those obstructionist atheists -- embraced the theology of Rodney King: "Can't we all just get along?"

In a word, no.

Anyone familiar with the statistics of church attendance knows this: mainline Protestant denominations are in trouble. They have long since ceased to grow, and in many regions, they are dwindling. The growth sector of American Christianity is the hard-line, the "fundamentalist" sects, tough minded, demanding, and without patience for theological "compromise." Where the Word of God is in question, there can be no compromise, only righteousness and damnation. Such is the face of the future of American's Christianity...these are the denominations and sects that have what it takes to attract new generations of members.

And so it has been, from the arrival of the first religious refugees in America.

For the Pilgrims, as we call them now, did not come to escape governments with were "secular" or "atheistic." They fled the reach of established churches -- government approved creeds and modes of worship -- which had become generous, tolerant, and mild. Nominally Calvinist, the Church of England in particular had come to embrace a modernist faith not so different from what the U.S. Supreme Court has called "harmless ceremonial Deism." But, it turns out, not everybody agrees that ceremonial Deism is harmless.

Those without strong religious views, and those seeking an agreeable, sociable and undemanding faith -- "All nice people go to heaven" -- found a latitudinarian national church entirely acceptable.

But those who were committed to a more demanding, more uncompromising sort of faith, were unable to "go along to get along." Taking communion in the Church of England to qualify for a public job (required under the Test Act) was in their eyes an abomination, an indelible taint. Even to live within the reach of such a compromised national faith was to be tainted. And so, when the opportunity arose, they fled.

The point is this: the experiment, an "equitable, inclusive" national faith, has been tried, and the creation of our own country is proof of its failure. Even if we restrict our attention to the Christian Protestant faithful, it is clear that the very "inclusiveness" of a national faith will render it irredeemably compromised in the eyes of many.

Part II

[athenian-abroad.livejournal.com]

The Constitution of 1787 created a nation that was radical in two respects: it was a nation without a king, and it was a nation without a church. To some degree, no doubt, the absence of a national church owed something to Enlightenment philosophical principles, but less than is often supposed. The irresistible argument was simply this: given the religious diversity already in place and the intensity of theological commitment present in many regions, what national church could possibly do more to unite than to divide the tenuous new nation? The only solution even remotely acceptable to all was to withdraw the national government from the sphere of the theological altogether.

But was this truly acceptable? There is a deep tension in the Christian theory of the state, roughly between the view of the early (first, second and third century) church and the post-Constantinian view (which itself restores a view handed down from Christianity's Jewish roots). The first view can be associated with Jesus's cryptic injunction to "render unto Caesar what is Caesar's", while the second may be identified with the Ten Commandments.

"Render unto Caesar" Christianity stood for the view that it was possible to lead a fully Christian life in separation from the state, that there were two distinct spheres, "what is Caesar's" and "what is God's", and that one could fulfill the obligations of both without conflict. With one key exception: participation in public rituals consecrated to pagan gods (which would, of course, amount to rendering unto Caesar what was properly God's). This was a problem, however, since Roman institutions thoroughly intertwined public ritual with all other public functions. As a result, Christian participation in the public sphere was strictly curtailed, limited perhaps to payment of taxes and (more controversially) acceptance of conscription. But in principle, had the Roman state not conjoined pagan ritual to public service in all its aspects, there was no particular bar to a Christian participating fully in the political life of a non-Christian state.

Ten Commandments Christianity, which developed after the Roman state officially became a Christian state, stands for a very different -- and much older -- view of government and law. The distinctive feature of Ten Commandments Christianity is not merely its avowal that true laws are made by God, not by man, but its belief that God judges whole communities on the basis of their laws and the vigor with which those laws are enforced. In this view, failure to judicially punish -- even execute -- sinners taints the entire community with the unpunished sin. Living in a community that fails to punish sins imperils the soul of a Christian. Thus, Christians must not only fully control the laws, but must shape the laws to mete out punishment to all those who are displeasing to God. Of course, figuring out exactly who is displeasing to God is likely to be a controversial exercise. Ten Commandments Christianity therefore ensures that theological disagreements automatically become crucial political issues, and that religious pluralism among the citizenry cannot continue for long...it must either be extinguished or the polity must split along sectarian lines.

Render Unto Caesar Christianity offers a theological platform for a state which is free, durable and whose citizens take their faith seriously. Ten Commandments Christianity simply does not.

The authors of the Constitution placed their bets on Render Unto Caesar, chiefly because there was no viable alternative at hand. Today, no new viable alternative has presented itself. But a few decades of domestic religious tranquility have lulled many of us into a false sense of security, into a comfortable belief that surely it would do no harm to deputize Caesar, to have him collect a little of what is due to God. Who could possibly object?

Re: Part I

[amqu.livejournal.com]

athenian_abroad:

The point is this: the experiment, an "equitable, inclusive" national faith, has been tried, and the creation of our own country is proof of its failure. Even if we restrict our attention to the Christian Protestant faithful, it is clear that the very "inclusiveness" of a national faith will render it irredeemably compromised in the eyes of many.

When I commented above, I wrestled with Mr. Daniel's statement about a public religious observance being "inclusive." In the end, I omitted my reservations on it in the interests of brevity.

But I think you have made a very valid point. Tolerance is the religion of America. And that is anathema to any religionist who holds a view of exclusive devotion to God. These people do not want to be included in a religious observance that they feel compromises their faith.

The separation of church and state works in America so long as there is no expectation of conformity to any specific religion. But that is simply freedom from religion. To experience freedom of religion there can be no legal action taken against a person's observance of his chosen faith. The tolerance that is expected today is acceptance of everyone's views. I feel that is a distorted view of tolerance. Tolerance is simply accepting that a person has a right to his view without legally hindering it. People should be free to disagree without being labeled intolerant.