Moral Theology vs. "What the Bible Says"

Over the years I have observed, in discourse amongst Christians, a certain approach taken to moral questions that arise, say in a Bible study group or an online discussion, along the lines of, "Is it wrong to x?" or, "Is it okay to x?" where x is a particular behaviour or practice. In my experience, I have often seen the question rephrased, either by the questioner or someone else, in the form, "What does the Bible say about x?" In this brief (by my standards) article, I will argue that this approach to constructing Christian morality, which on its face appears ideal, is problematic, and that thoroughgoing moral theology is better.

The question, "What does the Bible say about x?" implicitly makes direct biblical witness—what the Bible does or does not say about x—the definitive criterion for answering the original right-or-wrong question. An obvious difficulty is that there are numerous behaviours of contemporary relevance—e.g., abortion, same-sex marriage, gambling, masturbation, smoking marijuana, cremation, contraception, cloning, physician-assisted suicide, littering, polluting—about which the Bible has little or nothing to say directly. If we take same-sex relationships as a (particularly controversial) case in point, there are about half a dozen passages that together form the crux interpretum for those debating the 'biblical' point of view. In the equally heated debates over abortion, there are even fewer texts that directly bear on the matter. On numerous other issues mentioned above, the Bible is completely silent.

Christians taking the "What does the Bible say about x?" approach to morality often disagree on both the meaning and relevance of the salient passages (if there are any). There is inevitably a "No" camp (those who hold behaviour x to be forbidden) and a "Yes" camp (those who hold behaviour x to be permissible, or at least subject to personal freedom of conscience). However, both sides of the debate often appear to presuppose that a binding conclusion on the goodness or wickedness of behaviour x can be reached only if the Bible makes an explicit statement on the matter. The Bible's silence is equated with God's silence, and in a civilisation in which personal liberty and autonomy are paramount values, God's silence is understood as his signal that each individual is free to arrive at a personal position and behave accordingly. This is why the "No" camp clings doggedly to a handful of proof-texts that they assert are airtight and unambiguous (to overcome the force of personal autonomy), while the "Yes" camp is often content to merely cast reasonable doubt on the "No" proof-texts (more specifically, by pointing to ambiguities in exactly what behaviour is being forbidden, or disputing whether the prohibition is still in force). If God's will concerning behaviour x cannot be discerned with the explicitness of a "Thus says the Lord," it is safer to refer the matter to the court of personal autonomy.

Serious problems with the "What does the Bible say about x?" approach to morality should be apparent to the reader. For one, by limiting the scope of God's revealed moral law to direct biblical testimony on specific behaviours (prescriptions and proscriptions), we are handcuffed—perhaps even God is handcuffed—from making decisive judgments, and speaking as Christians with collective conviction, on a large number of relevant moral issues. The church, endued with heavenly authority to "bind and loose," seems only to be able to hand its members slipknots, which they may pull or not as they see fit. The "Yes" camp seems to have overlooked the possibility that God's will concerning behaviour x might be discernible even in the absence of a direct biblical commandment or precedent. Meanwhile, the "No" camp entrenches itself behind proof-texts and becomes almost obsessively concerned with behaviour x as the moral battleground for the present generation. Their opposition to behaviour x strikes others as pedantic and mean-spirited because the "No" camp seems to oppose it simply because "the Bible tells me so" and not as part of a holistic, coherent moral framework. "The Bible says you can't do x," moreover, is likely not the best formula for proclaiming the Good News.

If "What does the Bible say about x?" is not a sound approach to discerning the will of God, what is the alternative? It is moral theology. Mostly, but not exclusively, associated with the Catholic Church, moral theology can be defined as

That branch of Theology which states and explains the laws of human conduct in reference to man's supernatural destiny, the vision and fruition of God. As a science, it investigates the morality of human acts, that is, the moral good and the moral evil in conduct in relation to man's ultimate end.1

The difference between moral theology and the approach criticised above does not lie in the authority assigned to Scripture. The Catholic Church holds Sacred Scripture to be divinely inspired and infallible, biblical interpretation plays an indispensable role in moral theology, and indeed the Ten Commandments are the rubric within which Catholic moral theology is usually expressed (as, for instance, in the Catechism of the Catholic Church). Rather, what distinguishes moral theology from "What does the Bible say about x?" is, firstly, that moral theology draws on resources other than revelation, such as philosophy (especially natural law) and science; and, secondly, moral theology does not seek a "Yes/No" judgment on the morality of a behaviour as an end in itself, but only in relation to humankind's ultimate purpose, as ordained by the Creator. Moral theology first posits underlying aspects of the human condition, such as free will, knowledge, responsibility, and sin. It defines virtues and vices. It sets the moral law concerning specific aspects of human life (e.g., sexuality) within their divinely intended purpose. These features of moral theology enable the Church—not by her own strength but under the direction of the Holy Spirit—to arrive at sound, authoritative judgments concerning the rightness or wrongness of specific behaviours, even when those behaviours are not directly addressed in the Bible.

We might summarise by saying that, whereas the "What does the Bible say?" approach to morality is concerned primarily with the what of right and wrong, moral theology is concerned with the why, convinced that God's law is not arbitrary or helter-skelter but rational, coherent, and compelling. If you want to see Catholic moral theology at its best, read the famous encyclical Humanae Vitae ("Human Life") of Pope Paul VI (1968), which set out the Catholic Church's (much-maligned) teaching concerning contraception. The document makes no attempt to claim that the Bible says anything directly concerning contraception, and does not address contraception as one more isolated moral issue, but places it in the context of a coherent theology of human sexuality, oriented toward the divinely ordained purpose of human life itself—hence the choice of title.

I must say in closing that I have used the "What does the Bible say about x?" approach to morality as a foil, knowing full well that there is not a sharp dichotomy between this approach and moral theology, but rather a continuum. Many Christians who make this question their starting-point for investigating a moral issue still attempt to situate the behaviour in question in relation to more fundamental moral-theological concepts, and to arrive at general principles of conduct rather than merely a list of dos and do nots. In like manner, moral theologians are not averse to seeking direct biblical testimony concerning a particular behaviour. Even where the Bible is crystal clear on the "what" of morality, though, moral theology helps to illuminate the "why," which is equally important. There are too many Christians making arguments like, "Behaviour x is wrong, because the Bible says it is, end of discussion," or, conversely, "The Bible says nothing about behaviour x, and therefore it is permissible," or, "therefore, it is subject to personal freedom of conscience." The antidote to this muzzling of the will of God is moral theology.

Footnotes

• 1 Henry Davis, Moral and Pastoral Theology: A Summary (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1952), 1.

The Spiritual Side of Donating Blood

I am approaching my 36th birthday, and for the first 35 years of my life I never donated blood. Why not? I cannot name a specific reason. In my years as an eligible adult in Canada, I heard appeals on the radio from time to time from Canadian Blood Services that included the punchy double entendre, "Blood: it's in you to give." I was aware from these appeals that the public health system had a need for blood donors. It probably crossed my mind more than once that I ought to donate blood, but it never reached the point of a deliberate intention, much less an action.

Now, some people have legitimate medical or lifestyle reasons why they are ineligible to donate blood. However, of those who are eligible, only a minority actually donate. For instance, one NGO reports that "Although an estimated 38 percent of the U.S. population is eligible to donate blood at any given time, less than 10 percent do so annually." Meanwhile, a 2015 NHS report in the U.K. indicates that only 3% of England residents in the eligible age range (but including both eligible and ineligible persons) had donated blood in the past year. What is it that prevents most eligible people—like me, from ages 17 to 35—from donating blood? Perhaps it is a fear of needles or the sight of blood; perhaps a general apathy or sense of being  too busy; perhaps a belief that other people are doing it, so I don't need to.

Probably no one actually relishes having a needle stuck in their arm, but some people subject themselves to this relatively mild discomfort willingly. Perhaps, then, the better question is not what prevents people from donating blood but what motivates them to do so? Psychologists offer all sorts of explanations for human altruism, and of course many people donate blood and engage in other altruistic acts toward complete strangers for non-religious, humanitarian reasons. However, other donors may be motivated at least partly by their religious convictions; I am one of the latter.

Although the practice of blood donation and blood transfusions is a marvel of modern medicine (the science being about 350 years old), it has fascinating symbolism in relation to the ancient Christian faith. Think about it: one person willingly gives—sheds, in fact—his or her blood to preserve the health or even save the life of another. This is precisely what Jesus did for all of us on the cross. As he said to his disciples at the Last Supper, "This is my blood of the covenant, which will be shed for many" (Mark 14:24). The good shepherd laid down his life for the sheep (John 10:15-17). In a sense, then, we imitate in a small way Jesus' sacrifice and show solidarity with him when we willingly surrender some of our blood, and thus some of our life (since "the life of the flesh is in the blood," Lev. 17:11) in order to save another from death.

The symbolism can be taken further. The miracle of the Eucharist, in which the blood of Jesus truly becomes present to us and enters our bodies (cf. John 6:53-57), is paralleled in a small way by the medical marvel of the blood transfusion, in which one person's blood enters the body of another to preserve life and restore vitality. In this twofold sense, then, Jesus at the Last Supper and in his Passion is the archetypal blood donor.

Reflecting on such rich spiritual symbolism, the idea of donating blood becomes compelling to me almost to the point of a moral imperative. For, as Jesus said, "Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life" (John 12:25). How can I love my life so much that I cannot face a little fear and bear a little discomfort, when by hating it only that much I could save the life of another? Of course, I am not advocating a practice of mandatory blood donation for Christians or anyone else; the practice would then lose all the beauty of a self-sacrificial gift. However, I do think every Christian ought to examine his or her conscience if he or she is medically eligible to donate blood but has never seriously considered doing so.

Faced with the above, it seems incredible that there is at least one professedly Christian religious group, the Jehovah's Witnesses, that not only neglects to advocate for blood donations and blood transfusions but actually forbids its members either to donate blood or to receive a blood transfusion. The FAQ page on JW.org explains the reason:

This is a religious issue rather than a medical one. Both the Old and New Testaments clearly command us to abstain from blood. (Genesis 9:4; Leviticus 17:10; Deuteronomy 12:23; Acts 15:28, 29) Also, God views blood as representing life. (Leviticus 17:14) So we avoid taking blood not only in obedience to God but also out of respect for him as the Giver of life.

Now, the above texts, insofar as they are explicit (Acts 15:28-29 is more ambiguous) forbid eating or drinking blood. It is by no means an obvious hermeneutical inference that these texts also forbid donating or transfusing blood—practices that did not exist at the time, at least with any appreciable medical efficacy. There is obviously a stark difference between the practice of eating or drinking blood—which may convey some nutritional value but is quite unnecessary—and that of donating and transfusing blood, which under proper medical supervision can improve and save many lives without inflicting any lasting harm on the donors.

For me, the fundamental moral principle of proportionality ought to govern our judgment on this issue. This principle was famously invoked by Jesus in his disagreement with certain scribes and Pharisees over Sabbath observance. The scribes and Pharisees were enraged with Jesus for curing a man on the Sabbath, when no work should be done. Jesus gave examples of life-preserving actions that might justify violating (by the letter) the prohibition against work on the Sabbath, such as untying an ox or an ass and leading it out for watering (Luke 13:15) or rescuing a son or an ox that had fallen into a cistern (Luke 14:5). His rhetorical question brings home the underlying issue: "I ask you, is it lawful to do good on the sabbath rather than to do evil, to save life rather than to destroy it?" (Luke 6:9) So also, with the issue of blood donation and transfusion, the primary question must be, how can we save life rather than destroying it? Blood donation and transfusion saves lives. Forbidding these practices can, in effect, destroy them.

Through the advances of modern medicine, the God-given fluid that brings life to our organs and tissues can also bring life to our fellow humans. It took me 35 years to recognise the precious gift that courses through my veins. I hope no longer to let this gift go to waste.