Showing posts with label neighbor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label neighbor. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 3, 2019

Loving our neighbor as ourselves

Suppose that, as some theories of motivation hold, that all our actions are done in pursuit of our flourishing. But the Scriptures tell us that we should love our neighbor as ourselves. Therefore, all our actions should also be done in pursuit of our neighbor’s flourishing. This seems an unreasonably high standard.

There are three ways out:

  1. Deny that all our actions are done in pursuit of our flourishing.

  2. Deny the love ethic of the Old and New Testaments.

  3. Argue that the standard is not unreasonably high.

For me, (2) is not an option. I do think (1) is a serious option for independent reasons.

But I also think (3) is a very promising approach. Reasons to think that the requirement that we be pursuing our neighbor’s flourishing in all our actions is excessive are apt also to be reasons to think that Paul’s requirement that we “pray constantly” (1 Thes. 5:17) is excessive as well. But if all our actions are done in pursuit of our neighbor’s flourishing, and if we see our neighbor as in the image of God, then all our actions might be a kind of prayer, thereby fulfilling Paul’s difficult injunction. And, conversely, if we are praying always, aren’t we going to be always pursuing our neighbor’s flourishing?

We get something something similarly onerous to the requirement to pursue our neighbor’s flourishing in Kantian ethics: the requirement always to treat rational beings as ends.

One family of difficult cases, both for the flourishing requirement and the Kantian one, lies in everyday businesslike interactions. To use an example of Parfit, you’re buying coffee. It seems that all that is relevant about the barista is that they are supplying coffee. How can you not treat them as a mere means? How can you be pursuing their flourishing? Well, a useful reflection is that we flourish in large part by promoting the wellbeing of others. The barista’s professional activity is a part of their flourishing as a social animal. In courteously buying coffee, one is doing one’s part in an interaction that constitutes a part of that flourishing. Of course, it would be very odd, and likely to lead to pride (“Look at how great I am: I am enabling his flourishing”), if one were to be explicitly thinking about this each time one buys coffee. But courteously making opportunities for others to exercise their professional skills can be a habitual background intention in one’s actions. Similarly, when I when I bite into a delicious sandwich, my intention to get some enjoyment is not something that I need to think about, but it structures the activity (e.g., it explains why I don’t at the same time pinch myself hard).

A different kind of difficult case is given by activity which adversely impacts the flourishing of others. Morality sometimes requires such actions. Less well qualified applicants need to be turned down and trolleys need to be redirected towards more sparsely occupied tracks. Here I think three things can be done to abide by the flourishing requirement. The first is that one not intend a bad effect on flourishing. One doesn’t turn down the less well qualified applicants in order to negatively impact their flourishing. The second is that while declining the applicants or redirecting the trolley, one should be taking their flourishing into account, by thinking about any creative ways to decrease the negative impact on flourishing. Even if no creative ways are found (but isn’t prayer always an option?), the action is chosen as part of a pursuit of the flourishing of those who are harmed by it—but not of course as part of the pursuit of only their flourishing. The third is that there is a kind of harm to one if one is benefited immorally. To a morally sensitive person, it feels bad to get a job that another applicant is was better qualified for, and it would surely feel awful to have five people die because the trolley operator refused to redirect the trolley away from them for one’s sake. These feelings reflect reality. No human is an island, and when our flourishing is at the expense of those who deserve flourishing more, that is bad for us—even if we don’t know about it. It may not be on balance bad for us, but still it is a bad thing. And so the person who turns down the less qualified candidate or redirects the trolley prevents this bad thing from happening, and this is a positive impact on flourishing.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

1 John, and love of non-Christian neighbor

It is clear from the Parable of the Good Samaritan that Christian love for neighbor must extend beyond the confines of the Church. The First Letter of John says many beautiful things about how our love for one another is necessarily intertwined with our love for God: we love one another in the relevant way if and only if we love God, and this love is the center of the Christian life. But a puzzling feature of the Letter is that the love for one another appears specifically to be a love only within the Christian community: it is love for another Christian.

One way of reading 1 John together with the Parable is hierarchical: yes, we have a duty to love all our neighbors, including non-Christians. But the love for fellow Christians is the apex of this love, and it is only in the love for fellow Christians that the love for God can fully spread its wings, which is why the author of the Letter focuses on it. Furthermore, one might add something about the specific purposes of the Letter tied to disturbances within the community it was addressed to.

That all may be a part of the truth. But I want to propose something that goes a little further. We love our non-Christian neighbor as someone with a potentiality for being a fellow Christian. And not just a mere potentiality, such as my potentiality, which I expect will never be actualized, for tap-dancing outside of St. Stephen's Basilica in Budapest (certainly, I have the capabilities for learning some rudimentary tap-dancing and traveling there—but I don't expect to actually do it), and it is no great loss that it will not be actualized. Rather, it is more like the fetus's potentiality for becoming an adult, in the sense that it is a potentiality that is grave loss to the individual when it is not actualized, a potentiality that is not merely a matter of possibility, but a matter of an impulsion to the end. But there is a difference between the non-Christian's potentiality for becoming a member of the body of Christ, and the fetus's potentiality for becoming an adult. The fetus's potentiality for becoming an adult is a natural power in the fetus that simply needs the right environment. The non-Christian needs grace, which God offers to all.

That we love the non-Christian as a potential Christian does not mean that all our focus is on making the non-Christian into a Christian. After all, the parent's love for the child should typically be focused on the child as a potential adult. At the same time, much of the expression of that love is not focused on making the child into an adult. We feed, clothe and play with the child. Obviously, if we fail to feed the child, she may well die and fail to develop into an adult. But that is typically not what we are thinking: we are fulfilling the child's imminent need. And playing helps form the child, too, but again that is often not what one is thinking—instead, one may well simply be enjoying the game. Nonetheless, the expression of the love as a whole is shaped by the fact that the love is a love of the child as a potential adult.

Nonetheless, that we love the non-Christian as a potential Christian does mean that evangelization is a central aspect of our love for neighbor. This evangelization may or may not be in words, of course, and need not be conscious. The evangelization is an expression of the desire for union with the neighbor: a union as fellow members of Christ's body.

If this is right, then 1 John is describing the normative case where the potentiality for being a fellow member of the body of Christ has been fulfilled, just as when ethicists discuss relationships with others, they often talk of the case of adults, which is in some way the normative case. But the love for the child is in continuity with and directed towards becoming the love for the adult, and the love for a non-Christian is in continuity with and directed towards becoming the love for a Christian.

Is the comparison of the non-Christian to a child offensive? Well, it does fail to capture one aspect of the situation: the Christian's own falling short of being what she is called to. Perhaps a better way, in many cases, is to think of the case of a somewhat older sibling, or maybe of fifteen-year old parents, who in many ways are still children themselves.