My thoughts here have been prompted by a book called An Ethos of Compassion, which is a collection of plenary addresses delivered at a conference at the Institute for Christian Studies. The essays are directed toward analyzing the challenges that lie in finding the relationship between “order” and “compassion;” which deserves more emphasis, or should they be balanced? Or is the contrast itself misleading? How does Scripture treat the question? And what do our answers to the question imply for politics, ethics, and the work of the Church?
As I read through the text, I found myself thinking that many of the questions we as students of theology and political science deal with can be summarized as a debate between order and compassion, and that many schools of thought, both in civil government and in the church, can be distinguished by the priority they assign to each. And the apparent conflict between the two extends through many different kinds and levels of discourse, not only the more academic. It also surfaces in the contemporary social debates in which many non-intellectuals participate. I write here hoping to point us to a new way of thinking through the issues we confront, one that offers a clearer and more concise vocabulary with which to assess many of our perennial questions.
Order and compassion comprise the apparently competing elements in many of the most basic problems: the construction and improvement of society, the purpose of government, the ministry and administration of the church, war and peace, and our personal interactions with our neighbors, whether they be friends or strangers. Should the government expand the welfare program for the sake of “compassion,” or should it reduce it for the sake of an “order” in which hard work is rewarded? And for that matter, is the purpose of the government simply to maintain enough “order” for individuals to pursue whatever they might themselves determine as “compassion,” or should the government itself take a more actively “compassionate” role? Should a church kick the skateboarders out of the parking lot in order to avoid the possibility of disorder, or should it welcome them in order to extend the love of Christ? Should I challenge my friend to think more honestly about his faith, which will hurt his feelings, or should I take the side of patience in order to maintain the relationship, which is also important? Which is the greater good?
The tendency of myself and this audience, I am sure, will be to automatically prioritize compassion, believing it to be closer to the mind of Christ and our call as his followers. But I believe that if we think carefully, we will also find the potentials of love in the operations of order, and not only of compassion. The local church might allow the skateboarders to stay, but at the expense of maintaining a place for people to pray in a spirit of reverence; most of us were probably thinking of the local, American-style evangelical church, but I imagine we would be more sympathetic to the rector of a beautiful cathedral in the Catholic or Orthodox traditions if he wished to maintain a certain atmosphere for the sake of worship, wouldn’t we?
Some might think to reduce the question to one of law versus grace, or of the letter of the law versus its spirit. While that is helpful to an extent, it misses some of the subtlety and difficult of the issues involved. Although it is true that grace has overcome or fulfilled the law, it has not destroyed it; law still remains, and we must ascertain its character. So when the question rightly involves addressing the tendency to legalism to which an emphasis on order is prone, we still cannot be satisfied that our answer ends the debate, for we still must develop some guiding ideas for how and when love - or compassion - comprehends order. In the end it is about the skill to apply each priority at the right times (or kyros, as Bill Bray would say).
Perhaps the most obvious Scriptural example comes from John 8:3-11, which records the story of Jesus and the adulteress woman.
The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus, ‘Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?’ They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him. But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, ‘If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.’ Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground. At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there. Jesus straightened up and asked her, ‘Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?’ ‘No one, sir,’ she said. ‘Then neither do I condemn you,’ Jesus declared. ‘Go now and leave your life of sin.’
The story of Jean Valjean and the priest in Hugo’s Les Miserables also came to mind. Having just escaped from prison, the fugitive Valjean is given food and shelter for the night by a kindly priest and his wife. Despite their kindness, Valjean leaves early in the morning and steals the couple’s valuable silverware. Soon afterwards he is caught, and though he protests to the police that the priest had given him the silverware as a gift, he is brought back so his story can be verified. Expecting the priest to expose him as a thief, Valjean is sure he will go back to prison. But the priest instead lies to the police, and says he did in fact give Valjean the silver; and not only that, he rebukes him for having left without breakfast - and then gives him the rest of his silver. The priest’s compassion transforms Valjean into a God-fearing man. (The entire novel, come to think of it, is all about order and compassion.)
In each of these stories what was right was abrogated by what was the right thing to do. I’m suggesting that if we can learn to frame our arguments around the terms “order” and “compassion”, we can better understand the issues involved.
This is because the words can refer to so many different levels of discourse. Order can refer to philosophical notions of reason and its place in (or around) the world; it can refer to social traditions and structures which embody our most basic philosophical notions; and it can refer to styles of government and their ethical implications and practical success. And it can refer to more everyday moral dilemmas which we all face.
Jesus in John 8 and the priest in Les Miserables both demonstrated a command of the moral skills necessary to appreciate how order and compassion play in the lives of real people, ourselves and others. For Jesus did not only save the woman from stoning - he also commanded her to turn from her sin and embrace a new order. The priest’s compassion doesn’t end in Valjean’s avoiding prison - it leads to a new life of compassion for Valjean as well. In each case a moment in which order was suspended for the sake of compassion led to the redeeming embrace of an order informed by that initial compassion on the part of the one who was shown mercy.
Love fulfills the law, which means the law must be made to serve its ends. Those ends are redemption and restoration. The one who rejected order - or was rejected by it - is now restored to a sanctified participation in that order. Because of the manner of her introduction to order, the redeemed will forever see the law through the eyes of grace, instead of the eyes of death and condemnation. And she will be empowered to develop the skills necessary to show that same compassion to others - to introduce others in love to that same order, which has now become a foundation for further acts of grace rather than a rock on which to founder.
Compassion redeems order. Order once redeemed is then free to give content to the skills we need to show compassionate order to others in need of mercy (and we all are in need of mercy). Order also redeems compassion, for “order” comprises purpose and organization as well as just “the law.” It is because there is “order” that we can speak of compassion as having any specific end; it is because of order that compassionate deeds can be accomplished effectively. It is a sensitivity to order - moral order, physical order, logical order, social order - that allows us to operate as creatures in creation, and without it there could be no “acts” of compassion, since there could be no “action” to begin with.
Though my stories were about individuals, it should be clear that the formulation of policy is no less subject to the requirements of compassion/order. I guess that’s where the “political science” side of things comes into play. Take the possibility of going to war with Iraq, for example. How in our proposals have we balanced compassion and order with their shared end, which is redemption? It seems that when our sole purpose in foreign policy is the maintenance of our own security, at the probable expense of stability, good stewardship of economic resources, and respectful relations with other nations - not to mention human life - we have ignored our responsibility to carefully consider how we might use our power to further the cause of peace and justice and real “order” in this world. We’ve enthusiastically embraced an order unredeemed by any moment of compassion that would force us to slow down and consider our motives and the manner in which we propose to enforce that order.
Of course I don’t anticipate officials at the State Department formulating policy according to the demands of agape love any time soon. I’m speaking more to us as Christians about the opinions we develop on this matter and others like it. Is what we think about the bigger issues informed by the same ethic that I’m sure we all agree should control our everyday affairs? Or do we tend to differentiate between what is morally required of individuals and what is morally required of governments and societies?
I think that if we take Jesus and Scripture seriously enough, there won’t be any room for that kind of moral compartmentalization. What do you think?
