Law is a prominent religious and moral category in both Judaism and Christianity. In the OT, God’s law embodies the covenantal relationship between God and God’s people (Exod. 19:5-6; Deut. 10:12-15). It sets the people of God apart and provides guidance for their relationships with God and one another. The law, therefore, is a cherished gift that promotes flourishing (Ps. 19:7-11). The witness concerning the law in the OT is not singularly positive, however. Through the prophets, God enters suit against the people for blatantly ignoring or hypocritically misusing the law (Jer. 2:4-13; Isa. 1:2-20; Mic. 6:1-8). It is turned from a source of life and flourishing to condemnation and alienation.
The NT is also ambivalent about the law. Matthew reports that Jesus came “not to abolish but to fulfill” the law, calling his followers to a higher righteousness that “exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees” (Matt. 5:17-20). In Mark, however, Jesus preaches freedom from scrupulous observance of legal regulations, associating it with the hypocrisy of the Scribes and Pharisees (Mark 7:1-13). For Paul, the law is good, but due to sin, it brings judgment and death rather than life and joy (Rom. 7:7-13; 2 Cor. 3:7-18). The authority of the law is superseded by Christ, who brings justification by faith, life in the Spirit, and adoption as children of God (Gal. 3:19-4:7).
A similar ambivalence can be seen in the heritage of Christian reflections on the uses of the law. For Thomas Aquinas, the natural law, available to all human beings through reason, is a necessary but insufficient guide for human existence. It provides trustworthy direction concerning their natural end as rational and social animals. The higher, supernatural end of human beings, however, is a gift of grace available only through Jesus Christ (ST I-II, qq. 90-95). Martin Luther, who emphasizes the depth of human sinfulness, understands the law negatively. First, it convicts people of their sinfulness before God (theological use); second, it restrains human licentiousness through the fear of punishment (civil use) (Commentary on Galatians 3:19; 4:3). Through grace, the true Christian is set free from the burden of the law to love God and neighbor. John Calvin’s understanding of the law includes these negative uses but also a more positive, third use of the law, which he considers its principal and proper purpose: “to learn more thoroughly each day the nature of the Lord’s will to which they aspire, and to confirm them in the understanding of it” (Institutes 2.7.12).
Throughout Scripture and the Christian heritage, God’s law has been understood and used in a variety of ways that complement and conflict with one another: it is a guide for right relationship with God and one another, it condemns people for departing from God’s will, it provides minimal but necessary measures to maintain order, and it is used by hypocrites and sinners as a tool of oppression and injustice.
See also Covenant; Judgment; Law; Legalism; Sin
Timothy A. Beach-Verhey
The biblical words law and gospel often appear in a tandem or dialectical relationship to each other. Paul in particular used these terms in his Letters to the Galatians and the Romans to summarize God’s two ways of speaking with the world.
The concept of law focuses on God’s gracious will that all creatures, especially humans, live gratefully in right relationship with God, with one another, and with the whole creation. God’s word of law commands and structures right relationships, obligates obedience to God’s law, and holds humans accountable to God’s will. In Paul’s view, God speaks law to all the peoples of the world through codes like the Ten Commandments and also to the particular ancient people of Israel through specific commands meant only for them in their time and place. The concept of gospel focuses on God’s promise to everyone centered in Jesus Christ to liberate and redeem the world from sin, death, and the devil. As Jesus promises, “So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:36).
Key theologians have used these tandem terms to express the heart of Christian theology. Ambrose (339-97), bishop of Milan, picked up on the contrast between law and gospel. Augustine (354-430), bishop of Hippo, also drew on the distinction between law and gospel in light of Paul’s contrast between “letter” and “spirit” when Augustine opposed the teaching of Pelagius that people could achieve righteousness by obeying God’s commandments.
Martin Luther (1483-1546) and his confessional followers employed law and gospel in a comprehensive fashion to clarify the Reformation’s confession of the chief teaching of the Christian faith, justification by faith alone. The ungodly are justified by their faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ and not by doing good works prescribed by the law.
Luther noted that God designed two uses for the law. First, God orders and preserves society by restraining sin and evil and by promoting the wellbeing of social and environmental life (the law’s civil or political use [cf. Exod. 20:1-17]). Second, God accuses sinners of unrighteousness and shows them their need for a savior (the law’s theological or spiritual use [cf. Rom. 3:20]). While Luther had much to say about the civil use of law and its implications for social ethics, he also considered the theological use to be God’s chief purpose of the law because it prepares sinners for their savior. The law is, therefore, “dynamic” in that it powerfully affects human reality. Philip Melanchthon (1497-1560) and John Calvin (1509-64), two other key Reformation theologians, also emphasized law and gospel. In contrast to Luther, both acknowledged a third use of law that serves as the supreme guide for Christian living. The status of a third use of the law has remained a point of contention between those who follow Luther’s thinking and those who follow that of Melanchthon and Calvin.
Luther emphasized the “dynamic” character of gospel as a living voice through the power of the Holy Spirit. The gospel thereby embodies both report and address characteristics. As report, the gospel always says something centrally about Jesus Christ—for instance, he was born of the Virgin Mary. As address, the gospel affects human reality by creating, forming, and sustaining the church as the body of Christ, God’s new creation that lives already now in anticipation of the final coming of God to redeem all creation. As address, the gospel takes the form of the unconditional promise to justify the ungodly, to use Paul’s language, and this promissory dynamic creates the living and active faith of the people of God on earth. This Jesus Christ is for you; he forgives your sins and you now belong to him.
The dynamic character of law and gospel leads to their “hermeneutic” quality; that is, law and gospel govern Christian speaking and living. Law and gospel are the background grammar, so to speak, so that Christians through words and deeds communicate Jesus in the world as God’s ultimate good news. Communicating God’s law generally follows an “if . . . then . . .” conditional grammar. For instance, if you kill your neighbor, then God considers you a murderer. Communicating gospel follows the “because . . . therefore . . .” grammar of an unconditional promise. For instance, because Jesus died for you, therefore you are a child of God. Or, because Jesus ends the law’s accusation of your sin, you are free to live in the power of the Holy Spirit. Thus, Luther’s hermeneutical warning: “See to it, therefore, that you do not make a Moses out of Christ” (Luther 360).
Bibliography
Althaus, P. The Theology of Martin Luther. Fortress, 1966; Ambrose, On the Duties of the Clergy. NPNF2 10. Eerdmans, 1966; Augustine. On the Spirit and the Letter. http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/1502.htm; Calvin, J. Institutes of the Christian Religion. Trans. F. Battles. Ed. J. McNeill. LCC 20, 21. Westminster, 1960; Gritsch, E., and R. Jenson. Lutheranism: The Theological Movement and Its Confessional Writings. Fortress, 1976; Kolb, R., and T. Wengert, eds. The Book of Concord: The Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church. Fortress, 2000; Luther, M. Luther’s Works. Vol. 35. Concordia, 1960.
Gary M. Simpson
Leadership plays a necessary and valuable role within organizations and society. It is a complex practice grounded in beliefs, values, and self-awareness, all of which affect how a leader leads. Increasingly, there is need for robust dialogue about good leadership because it is crucial to building healthy organizations and societies in which people can do good work and flourish. Scripture is a reference point for the leader in any context, but how to read biblical texts in a manner that leads to responsible, ethical leadership requires careful consideration.
Studies on leadership that include Scripture often focus on the individual rather than the organizational or cultural side of the role. Character studies featuring prominent biblical personalities, such as Jesus, Moses, David, and Paul, investigate their values and best practices. Another popular approach summons scriptural support for formulaic step-plans or how-to’s for personal leadership development, organizational strategies, vision shaping, the use of power, and so on. Jesus was the CEO of his early movement, Nehemiah an entrepreneur, Moses an organizational leader, and David the exemplar of leadership character development. The fundamental flaw in all these studies is that their authors assume that the culture, societal norms and values, perceptions of reality and experience, organizational culture, and economic realities found in Scripture are essentially similar or identical to the worlds of contemporary readers. The Bible becomes a “handbook” for practices and ethical decision-making or a set of universal principles that provides rules for engagement. Although appealing in its simplicity and seeming respect of the authority of the text, this model fails because it is anachronistic and does not acknowledge the historical, cultural, and linguistic issues involved. A thoughtful approach to the moral life for leadership in this century must be based upon a different use of Scripture.
Need for a Model of Scriptural Interpretation
Scripture is socially located. Its meaning is tied to the context in which it was composed. The NT was written within the historical, social, and linguistic context of the eastern Mediterranean from roughly 45 CE to 100 CE. (The OT is, of course, much older.) The leadership issues that surfaced within this emergent religious movement were those of a loosely affiliated collection of small house churches, not unlike the guilds, associations, and Jewish synagogues of the ancient world. A large gulf stands between the leadership needs of these ancient communities and those of contemporary megachurches, publicly traded companies, or nonprofit organizations. The issues that arise in today’s complex organizations and economy were not encountered in the ancient world and certainly not within the early Christian communities; thus, they were never addressed in Scripture.
Any discussion of leadership ethics with a view toward today’s society must work from a more sophisticated model of interpretation. Three aspects of NT interpretation are important to follow: (1) engage in a historical-cultural exegesis of the text; (2) reflect on how this ancient text relates to our current situation; and (3) allow the interpretation of the text to shape our practices. Rather than reducing the text to a set of universal principles or rules, we are interested in the manner in which these early communities of faith, encoded in the scriptural documents, wrestled with ethical issues of their day. This then provides a model for us today. As many have argued, the process is similar to performing improvisational solos in jazz music. The musician improvises within the constraints of the specific song. In this case of reading Scripture with a view toward leadership, the constraints are the narrative theological worlds set by the text, which frame the complex issues that we confront as we seek to live out our lives in a manner faithful to the history of God’s work in the world and within the kingdom of God.
Defining Reality
A key function of leadership is to define reality. Leadership that is explicitly Christian ought to base itself in a theological worldview and understanding of salvation history. This grand narrative profoundly shapes how a person leads, for within it are the beliefs and values that undergird good leadership, and it serves to frame ethical decisions and practices. And while we may not find “the five keys” to being an amazing CEO within the NT, the NT will shape the major theological concepts that ought to provide the structure for ethical discourse.
An example of the relationship of theology to practice occurs in Rom. 14:1-5. The issues that arose in these early Roman Christian communities were the result of the conflict between Jewish and gentile believers over how closely to adhere to OT law, dietary regulations, and so on. Paul’s argument is rooted in his theology and understanding of God. Because there is one God, who is impartial, welcoming them all into one believing community (Rom. 3:27-31), they should all welcome one another. Paul’s admonition flows from a vision of reality that has been informed by a theological vision, his understanding of God, and the grand narrative of God’s work in the world in Christ. This affects his conception of diversity, their corporate identity, and the grounds for membership and acceptance. Paul’s leadership is expressed by shaping these early communities with this vision and practice. Ethical decision-making is fundamentally rooted in good theology. Leadership, whether intentional or not, presents a view of reality to those within the organization that has a profound effect on moral life and practices.
What It Means to Be Human
Leadership occurs within the context of people and relationships; ultimately, we lead people. One may not speak of leadership apart from followership. A leader has the responsibility to create an organization or team that fulfills the mission of the organization with excellence and yet also is a place where people can flourish. To accomplish these aims, a thoughtful understanding of people (anthropology) is necessary.
The events and their consequences that occurred in the garden of Eden remain with us today. Scripture is honest about the capacity of humanity for good and evil, and in contrast to a modern understanding, we all share that capacity.
Leaders of all types of organizations are presented a challenge. How can they lead in such a way as to create space for the best of humanity to be realized while recognizing that both individuals and organizations have the capacity for the opposite? Whereas Scripture frames our understanding of the human condition, it is left to us to create structures and organizations that provide healthy boundaries that limit the impact of the fall, while at the same time enabling the beauty of humanity its fullest expression. Texts such as Gen. 1:26-28 (divine mandate and human dignity), 2 Cor. 5:16-21 (Paul’s motif of new creation), and 1 Pet. 3:13-17 (seeking the public good) provide a way into a theological model that allows for such.
One of the most neglected aspects of leadership ethics is conversation about the responsibility of ensuring that organizational processes and values support the full functioning and development of people within it. Ethics too often has been associated solely with grievance processes or risk mitigation. In healthy organizations, transparency, honesty, authenticity, and integrity are the norm. Contractual arrangements are grounded in covenant, trust, grace, and love. Each of these aspects is present within a Christian theological world that is supported in Scripture but not explicit. Further, leadership plays a crucial role in shaping organizational values and culture, designing bounded systems, processes, workloads, buildings, workspaces, and other elements of organizational life that develop and utilize people. Leaders balance the efficiency and productivity necessary to remain sustainable.
Leadership ethics reflect and are grounded in the life and values of the community. For people of faith, this also means that Scripture plays an important role in shaping the ethical framework. The ethical discourse that surrounds leadership on this level is akin to improvisation rooted in Scripture. The turbulence and change that organizations of all kinds face today demand leaders for whom Scripture and theology are intimate friends.
See also Authority and Power; Ecclesiology and Ethics; Institution(s); Professional Ethics
Bibliography
Benedict XVI. Encyclical Letter Caritas in Veritate of the Supreme Pontiff Benedict XVI to the Bishops, Priests and Deacons, Men and Women Religious, the Lay Faithful, and All People of Good Will on Integral Human Development in Charity and Truth. Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 2009; Clarke, A. Serve the Community of the Church: Christians as Leaders and Ministers. Eerdmans, 2000; Gill, D. It’s about Excellence: Building Ethically Healthy Organizations. Executive Excellence Publishing, 2008; Hays, R. The Moral Vision of the New Testament: Community, Cross, and New Creation; A Contemporary Introduction to New Testament Ethics. HarperSanFrancisco, 1996; Stassen, G. Kingdom Ethics: Following Jesus in Contemporary Context. InterVarsity, 2003; Williams, R. Stewards, Prophets, Keepers of the Word: Leadership in the Early Church. Hendrickson, 2006.
Richard Beaton
In theological and ethical discourse, “legalism” is used negatively to describe rigorous checklist adherence to a standard or law. Frequently, legalism focuses on microethical issues, but it can also afflict those who are concerned with macroethics. A merit-based view of salvation is also termed legalism with a quid pro quo approach to obedience and blessing. Legalists can seem sanctimonious, calculating, inflexible, and even hypocritical to those who do not keep the same standards.
Obedience in Scripture is not synonymous with legalism. While the nature of God’s covenant relationship with Israel sets out obligations for Israel to fulfill, Israel’s call is wholly gracious. Torah makes obedience the appropriate response to God’s election, but the temptation to turn obedience into a legalistic calculation in which the minimum standards are met is constant whenever observance of the law is paramount. Thus, the prophets accuse Israel of outward observance but missing the heart of God (e.g., Isa. 29:13). Torah observance reaches its zenith at the Qumran community, which considered itself to be the righteous remnant. Even here, however, outward obedience was to be matched by inward desire.
Both Jesus and the Pharisees were concerned with lives of holiness, but they take different views on boundary markers. For the Pharisees, holiness and purity require separation. Their halakah is viewed by Jesus as burdensome legalism (Matt. 11:28-30; 23:4). However, Jesus does not repudiate Torah; he demands a greater righteousness than that of the scribes and Pharisees (Matt. 5:20) and sums it up in the two Great Commandments (Matt. 22:36-40), neither of which can be reduced to a performance list. Jesus’ halakah interprets Torah in a way that goes beyond the legalism of boundary maintenance.
Paul proclaims freedom from the abuse of the law conceived of as a barrier to God’s gracious calling of the gentiles. He opposes those who would require the gentiles to undergo circumcision in order to become full-fledged members of God’s covenant people (Gal. 5:1-12). However, a contrast drawn between law and gospel is untenable. Paul does not eliminate the law; he transposes it to another key: the law of Christ, the Spirit-enabled obedience of those in the new covenant relationship through Christ (2 Cor. 3:6).
The continuing call for the people of God to be holy leads to ethical reflection on how this call is expressed, but too often this has hardened into a narrow and unattractive legalism epitomized by a pernicious list of “dos and don’ts” by which the state of grace is measured. Boundary markers remain, but those that reflect contingent circumstances addressing microethical issues too easily become the traditions of the elders (see Mark 7:1-4). Legalism must be resisted as a distortion of the gospel, but at the same time the affirmation must be maintained that the call of God to be holy issues in transformed lives of grace-enabled faithful obedience in Christ from a heart filled by the love of God.
See also Antinomianism; Holiness; Torah
Bibliography
Barclay, J. Obeying the Truth: A Study of Paul’s Ethics in Galatians. SNTW. T&T Clark, 1988; Barrett, C. K. Freedom and Obligation: A Study of the Epistle to the Galatians. SPCK, 1985; Dunn, J. D. G. Christian Liberty: A New Testament Perspective. Paternoster, 1993; Rosner, B., ed. Understanding Paul’s Ethics: Twentieth-Century Approaches. Paternoster, 1995; Wenham, G. Story as Torah: Reading the Old Testament Ethically. T&T Clark, 2000.
Kent Brower
The Letter of Jeremiah provides warnings about the folly of idolatry to Jews facing the prospect of exile to Babylon. The idea that Jeremiah wrote to the exiles is found in Jer. 29. The content echoes material in Jer. 10. Its polemic against idolatry has biblical roots in Deuteronomy, Deutero-Isaiah, and various psalms. In the Greek manuscript tradition it appears as a separate composition between Lamentations and Ezekiel, while in the Latin manuscript tradition it is chapter 6 in the book of Baruch. The primary text now is the Greek version, though it may have been composed in Hebrew. It may have originated at almost any time between the sixth and the first centuries BCE.
The text purports to be a copy of a letter that Jeremiah sent to Jews who were to be exiled to Babylon. The prophet warns that in Babylon they will be exposed to “gods made of silver and gold and wood” and exhorts them to remain faithful to worship of the God of Israel. The main point is captured by the advice, “But say in your heart, ‘It is you, O Lord, whom we must worship’ ” (v. 6).
The body of the letter (more like a sermon) consists of ten warnings against idolatry, which here is defined as worshiping what are claimed to be images of gods. The thrust of the critique is that these images are helpless, useless, lifeless, and powerless. They cannot do what the real God does, so their devotees are misguided. Each unit ends with something like a refrain that affirms that these idols are not gods at all and therefore do not deserve “fear” of the Lord.
This letter-sermon clearly was intended to encourage Jews who found themselves in settings where they were exposed to cults other than their own Jewish form of worship. It insists that participation in such cults is foolish and useless and bears witness to strong Jewish convictions about monotheism in the Second Temple period. It was written from the viewpoint of a Jew whose own religion prohibited physical representations of God (see Exod. 20:4-5; Deut. 5:8-9). The author does not pretend to give an objective picture of the cults to which his fellow Jews might be exposed. At no point does he try to get into the heads and hearts of the devotees of those cults or to imagine that the various representations of the gods might be intended as visible symbols of the divine. For this reason, this text can present problems for Jews and Christians today attempting to engage in dialogue with other religions. Yet such attacks against the folly of idolatry are common in Second Temple Judaism (e.g., Bel; Wis. 13-15), rabbinic Judaism (the 'Abodah Zarah tradition), and early Christianity (Rom. 1:18-32; 1 Cor. 8-10; Jas. 2:19; 1 John 5:21).
See also Deuterocanonical/Apocryphal Books; Exile; Idolatry; Jeremiah
Bibliography
Barton, S., ed. Idolatry: False Worship in the Bible, Early Judaism and Christianity. T&T Clark, 2007; Harrington, D. Invitation to the Apocrypha. Eerdmans, 1999, 103-8.
Daniel J. Harrington
The third book of the Pentateuch, Leviticus, is comprised of two major sections. The first section (chaps. 1-16) is largely concerned with ritual instructions and laws having to do with ancient Israel’s cultic practices, and as such, it clearly reflects the influence of writers and redactors affiliated with the Priestly (P) tradition. The second section (chaps. 17-26) is concerned less with ritual than with moral and ethical behavior in the community of Israel. This block of texts is collectively known as the Holiness Code, and it seems to reflect a later Priestly perspective than that found in the first section of Leviticus. Because the Holiness Code’s focus is explicitly on ethics in ancient Israel, it is treated in a separate entry in this dictionary. Leviticus 27 is included by many scholars as a part of the Holiness Code, whereas others see it as a separate, concluding chapter to the book.
The P material in Lev. 1-16 does not share the Holiness Code’s concern that holiness be “democratized” to the whole community of Israel. Indeed, J ames Watts has recently suggested that Leviticus was preserved in Israel primarily as an apology for the hegemony of the Aaronide priesthood. In the P material, the maintenance of distinctions between holy and common, clean and unclean, as well as the teaching of Torah, are the purview of Israel’s priests (Lev. 10:10-11). Ethics in the P material (and often in the Holiness Code) is not explicit, but rather implicit in the worldview of the Israelite cult.
Ritual Ethics
William Brown has suggested that in ancient Israel, morality and ethics were inseparable from cosmology. We can discern some key aspects of the priestly worldview inherent in Leviticus from other P texts in the Pentateuch. Genesis 1 makes it clear that the maintenance of proper boundaries within the created order is paramount for the priests: God creates, as it were, biospheres on days 1-3, and days 4-6 parallel them as the biospheres are filled with appropriate entities (the ruling lights, plants, animals, humans). Rhythmic cycles of times and seasons are established as integral to the proper functioning of the cosmos. Space too was sacred, as the detailed instructions for the building of the tabernacle (Exod. 25-27) illustrate. Breaches of the created order and its rhythms risk allowing the ingress of the “formless void” (tohu wabohu [Gen. 1:2]) of chaos that God bounded and organized at creation. Leviticus encodes this “ethos of the cosmos” in a kind of ritual ethics, wherein the regular practice of rituals allows the practitioner to literally embody the priestly worldview by understanding one’s own body and life as a microcosm of the created order.
It was the job of the Israelite priesthood to recognize and maintain the proper boundaries of the created order so that Yahweh might continually reside in Israel’s midst, enthroned within the holy of holies, the most sacred sector of the sanctuary (Lev. 16:2). The departure of Yahweh would mean the breakdown of the created order, so the maintenance of the sanctuary’s holiness was of supreme importance. In the priestly worldview, people, places, things, and times could be either holy or common and either ritually clean or unclean, and these statuses were “contagious” to each other. That which was holy must be kept separate from that which was either common or ritually unclean, lest they pollute each other in catastrophic ways (see Lev. 10:1-2; Num. 16:35; 1 Chr. 13:9-10).
Yet the living of everyday life necessitates that people and things move back and forth between cleanness and uncleanness, holiness and commonness. Ordained priests (see Lev. 8-9) mediated between God and the people by employing rituals to facilitate the safe transition between the states of holy/common and clean/unclean. Jacob Milgrom has suggested that “life versus death” is the governing paradigm whereby the priests determined cleanness versus uncleanness. Thus, Leviticus attempts to delineate clearly when one is in danger of proximity to death, such as the loss of life force (e.g., menses [Lev. 12], semen [Lev. 15]), or contact with corruption (e.g., corpses [Lev. 22:4], leprosy [Lev. 13:1-46], or rot in fibers or walls [Lev. 13:47-59; 14:33-38]), and then to provide a ritual pathway back to the safety of life. The dietary laws in Lev. 11 are an effort to restrict humans’ killing for food to a small selection of species and give the necessary death a ritualized context intended to show reverence for the animal’s life—that is, its blood (Lev. 17:11, 14)—which belongs to God. Some rituals were designed to cleanse an impure person or thing (e.g., Lev. 4:1-5:13) or provide a means by which one could make reparation to God for sin (e.g., Lev. 5:14-6:7 [MT 5:14-26]). The ritual for Yom Kippur (Lev. 16) provides a means by which accreted sins within the community can be removed from the sanctuary, ensuring that it remains habitable for Yahweh. Still other rituals mark the recognition of sacred times and seasons (Lev. 23), and some seem intended solely for positive interaction between an individual and Yahweh (e.g., Lev. 3).
Leviticus in the Present Day The ethical significance of Leviticus today necessitates an understanding of the book’s motivations more than rote observation of its laws and rituals. In practical terms, it is impossible today to live by many of the laws and rituals found in Leviticus.
The sanctuary that Leviticus presupposes as God’s earthly dwelling place is no longer extant. The blood sacrifice was done in the service of maintaining a harmonious world order, whereas to us, the two concepts stand in direct conflict. The Israelite priests’ tasks of maintaining people and things within strict categories may lead to isolation or prejudice in today’s world. Yet the often arcane laws and rituals of Leviticus were intended to provide guidelines for the care of the natural world, to strengthen interpersonal relationships within the Israelite community, and to allow for regular interaction with God. We humans need rituals to help us frame our lives in meaningful ways: bar/ bat mitzvahs, baptisms, weddings, and funerals are our versions of Leviticus’s rites of passage. There is much of value, even for those who do not follow a strict kosher diet, in the mindfulness of our fellow creatures’ lives inherent in the laws of kashrut. The priests’ goal of keeping the world as closely aligned as possible with God’s “very good” creation (Gen. 1:31) is still a worthy one, especially in light of present-day concern for our beleaguered environment. A constant awareness of God’s presence in Israel’s midst is the ontological foundation of Leviticus’s ritual and ethical views; people of faith today can share this foundation, even if our praxis is modified.
See also Atonement; Clean and Unclean; Creation Ethics; Food; Holiness; Holiness Code; Old Testament Ethics; Priestly Literature; Reparation; Sanctuary
Bibliography
Balentine, S. Leviticus. IBC. John Knox, 2002; Brown, W. The Ethos of the Cosmos. Eerdmans, 1999; Grabbe, L. Leviticus. OTG. Sheffield Academic Press, 1993; Milgrom, J. Leviticus. 3 vols. AB 3,3A, 3B. Doubleday, 1991-2001; idem. Leviticus: A Book of Ritual and Ethics. CC. Fortress, 2004; Nelson, R. Raising Up a Faithful Priest: Community and Priesthood in Biblical Theology. Westminster John Knox, 1993; Watts, J. Ritual and Rhetoric in Leviticus: From Sacrifice to Scripture. Cambridge University Press, 2007.
Robin C. McCall
Libel usually refers to written falsehood that intends to mislead or damage another’s reputation. It is not an expressly biblical concept, but in modern jurisprudence it is grouped with slander, its spoken equivalent. Biblically, both should be seen as species of false witness and are typically used when referring to people more so than to events. The Decalogue prohibition of false witness is specifically “against your neighbor” (Exod. 20:16; Deut. 5:20; cf. Prov. 24:28). Libel differs from false teaching or heresy, which sometimes is equated with blasphemy (as in 1 Tim. 1:20). Libel differs from slander not primarily in its being written as opposed to spoken, but in its being fixed, whether in print or in another medium. Its falsehood is therefore more likely to become a matter of the historical record than false speech, which is temporary, even though its effects may persist.
Nevertheless, traditionally, it is not necessary for a claim to be false in order to be considered libelous. True statements that custom and proper decorum would normally keep private may be considered slanderous or libelous upon their public airing. This idea that there is more to the ethics of speech than merely truth or falsehood points to the ways that speaking is governed by customs that elaborate the kinds of contexts in which some claims are permitted and others are not, regardless of their truth. Dietrich Bonhoeffer thus surmised that a statement is true not just as a matter of objective content, but through the conditions under which it is uttered (Bonhoeffer 358-67).
See also Slander; Speech Ethics; Ten Commandments; Truthfulness, Truth-Telling
Bibliography
Bonhoeffer, D. Ethics. Touchstone, 1995.
Craig Hovey
The word liberation appears rarely in English Bibles (see Esth. 4:14 NET; Ezek. 46:16 MSG). However, the proclamation of liberty and release appears often, and the concept of liberation is deeply rooted in the Bible and is an essential component in ethical and theological discourses of the Christian message and life.
In the biblical narrative, God liberates people from social and political oppression, as well as from the bondage of sin, from temptations and attacks of the evil one, from dangerous places, and from death itself. God’s “liberative” acts deliver those who are suffering and/or experiencing persecution. When humans are subjected to these conditions, God intervenes on their behalf to bring about wholeness, justice, equality, and full participation in the affairs of their respective communities; at the end, through these actions, God liberates those who were oppressed and/or in bondage. The basic premise of God’s “liberative” acts is to protect human dignity, restore oppressed persons to full participation in the decision-making process in their communities, and bring all components of society into harmony.
God’s liberation process is intrinsically connected to the creation narrative, in which “in the
beginning” there is a sense of perfect harmony in all aspects and with all participants of the universe (Gen. 1). In this original organization of the universe and society in general, oppression does not exist. Furthermore, it is not just the absence of oppression that makes it perfect; it is also the way in which all components of creation—humans, animals, vegetation, and the universe in general— interact with one another in perfect harmony. Each component is dependent on the other in a system of equality and perfect social and environmental balance. It is this picture-perfect image that God’s “liberative” acts are attempting to replicate now in a fallen world, in which humans use and abuse their freedom of will to disrupt this balance and to promote their self-centered agenda by subjecting others to suffering and persecution. In this fallen world, not only are humans the perpetrators but also the forces of evil and the evil one are at work, oppressing and persecuting persons to ultimately destroy them.
Under these circumstances, God’s liberation for Christians is a call to restore the original harmony in all aspects of the universe and to restore the original order by renouncing evil, denouncing oppressive forces and structures, and confronting evil forces. God’s liberation is a general call to all humanity and a particular appeal to Christians to change their ways and the oppressive structures that they have created, which produce destructive results. God’s liberation is also an invitation to all humans to trust in Christ as the model and source for holistic (spiritual, physical, social, and personal) deliverance that leads to an abundant life.
The biblical narrative affirms that God desires liberation, and that liberation is an essential component of the biblical message in general and the Christian message in particular. The challenge posed by this understanding concerns the means of obtaining liberation. Some prefer to take a “spiritual” approach and simply make liberation equal to spiritual salvation, which is liberation from personal and private sins. In this way, liberation is a private practice commonly expressed through the sinner’s prayers. At the other extreme, some see liberation as limited to political and social actions to promote equality and social justice. Hence, liberation is concerned with social change and transformation, its goal being to transform social structures and systems that create, maintain, and promote corporate practices that prevent some members of society from full participation in the decision-making processes in their respective communities. Both representations fall short of an accurate interpretation of God’s liberation in the biblical narrative, simply because this dichotomy does not exist in the Scriptures. Although there are particular instances in which liberation seems to be centered on social transformation, such as the Jubilee Year, the exodus narrative, and prophetic discourses such as Rom. 8:20-22, there are other passages, such as Ps. 33; Rom. 8:1-2; 10:9-11, in which their common interpretation seems to affirm a spiritual liberation. Despite these polarized notions and interpretations, the biblical narrative as a whole begins and ends with a state of perfection, which sets the framework of reference for God’s liberation. Thus, God’s liberation is intrinsically connected to the creation narrative, in which all aspects of the human being and society are crafted in perfect harmony, and to the eschatological images of the book of Revelation, in which the promise of perfect harmony comes to fruition. Then, the “in-between” time is precisely God’s call to liberate—that is, to resemble the perfect harmony described at the beginning and at the end of the biblical narrative. God’s liberation, then, encompasses all aspects of the human being and all elements of the universe and society.
Finally, recent developments in ethical and biblical scholarship have highlighted another area in which liberation plays an important role by pointing out the need for liberation from ideological oppression. In this sense, an ethic of liberation questions those who are in control of interpretive processes and the dissemination of what is considered the dominant/predominant biblical interpretation. The assumption here is that those who are in power or belong to the dominant group, consciously or unconsciously, incorporate their self-centered agenda in their interpretations, which leads to the marginalization and oppression of groups and individuals whose interpretations are ignored and seen as erroneous simply because they are not part of the dominant norm. But even this case is included and addressed in God’s liberation when it is grounded in the creation and apocalyptic narratives as described above, leading to, in this case, ideological harmony, tolerance, and mutual respect.
See also Emancipation; Freedom; Jubilee; Liberationist Ethics; Slavery
Bibliography
Gutierrez, G. Teologia de la Liberacion: Perspectivas. CEP, 1971; Novak, M. Will It Liberate? Questions about Liberation Theology. Paulist Press, 1986; Segundo, J. Liberacion de la Teologia. Ediciones C. Lohle, 1975; Sobrino, J. Spirituality of Liberation: Toward Political Holiness. Trans. R. Barr. Orbis, 1988.
Hugo Magallanes
Liberationist ethics, also known as liberative ethics, is a methodology of ethical analysis contextualized in the lived experiences of marginalized and disenfranchised communities attempting to employ liberative praxis over and against the normative Eurocentric tendency of philosophizing on and about ethical paradigms. Since the start of the twentieth century, Euroamerican ethicists distanced themselves from discussions concerning the implementation of praxis as a response to unjust social structures. They gradually moved toward discourses on the nature of ethics and the definition of virtues and the good. In effect, Eurocentric ethics became more a task of explaining what is ethical rather than which ethical praxis should be engaged.
By contrast, those engaged in liberative ethics attempt to reconcile academic and theological propositions through praxis as a manifestation of pastoral concerns. In short, it is an ethics of doing, of vigorous involvement in the daily life struggles and concerns of the disenfranchised.
For Christian communities, liberationist ethics is based on the message of Christ, which stresses liberation from all forms of human oppression, specifically social, economic, political, racial, sexual, environmental, and religious. In effect, Christian liberative ethics is not so much what is said in bearing witness to the good news of the resurrection but rather what is done to and with those still trapped by the social forces of death.
Liberationist ethicists, facing the inhumanity of marginalized communities, struggle not with God’s existence but rather with God’s character. Who is this God whom we claim to exist? God is understood as a God who (1) imparts life and opposes death; (2) acts in history; (3) sides with the oppressed, making a preferential option for them; (4) is deeply concerned with justice; and (5) knows, through Christ’s crucifixion, what it means to experience unjust suffering at the hands of religious and state authorities. This understanding of God’s character becomes the basis upon which liberative ethics is constructed.
While not dismissing the importance of the spiritual, liberative ethics employs whatever social-scientific tools are available that can help explain the reality of the oppressed. Without succumbing to rigid theories such as Marxism, postcolonialism, and postmodernism, liberationist ethicists are comfortable using such theories without embracing their worldviews if they provide insight into the causes of oppression and make suggestions concerning the implementation of praxis.
Doing liberationist ethics becomes the process of marginalized communities integrating faith with the struggles and hardships of their daily sociopolitical life. Such a process does not produce faith; rather, it is a response to inhuman conditions. We call this response “liberative praxis,” the doing of ethics.
Defining Liberation
Use of the word liberation connotes salvation, salvation from sins—not just the personal sins an individual might commit, but just as importantly, the social sins inflicted upon marginalized communities. Oppression and poverty are an expression of sin. There exists awareness that social structures are designed to exploit certain groups of people (usually along race, ethnic, and gender lines) so that a minority group can live a life of power and privilege. Known as “structural sins,” these sociopolitical mechanisms are legitimized and normalized by the dominant culture. These oppressive structures are recognized as dispensing institutional violence toward the marginalized even though no immediate physical repressive acts take place. Nevertheless, the lack of physical restraints does not mean that economic violence ending in death is not occurring. Sin, committed by individuals or communities, breaks relationship with God. Liberation is not just for those oppressed; it is also for their oppressors, who are as much in need of salvation/liberation from structural sins as the oppressed.
The first praxis toward liberation involves the raising of consciousness—that is, to view and define reality not through the paradigms constructed and taught by the dominant culture but rather through those developed in the grass roots of marginalized communities. The goal is not to convince the “nonbeliever” to believe a certain set of doctrines to obtain salvation but rather to convince those who have been conditioned to see themselves as nonpersons that they have worth and dignity. Liberative ethics becomes the process of consciousness-raising and self-determination, which usually is prevented from occurring due to prevailing structures of oppression.
Goals of Liberative Ethics
The oppressed today are, like Jesus, being crucified so that the powerful can enjoy abundant life. They are indeed the crucified people. The ultimate goals of Christian liberative ethics become assisting these crucified people, as well as those who crucify them, to assume the task of becoming new creatures in Christ. To that end, liberative ethics seeks (1) liberation from all forms of exploitation, (2) a more humane and dignified life for both oppressed and oppressors, (3) the abolition of all forms of injustices, and (4) a new society based on the biblical teachings of love and justice. In short, liberative ethics works toward establishing the principles of God’s kingdom on earth—principles based on the biblical concepts of justice and love, which comprise the two major components of liberative ethics. To love the Lord your God and your neighbor like yourself is to do justice before God and foster justice with your neighbor. The doing of justice is a manifestation of love, so that liberative ethics becomes love in action.
Because Jesus is still among the people, the kingdom that he preaches is not some future event in the hereafter; it is in the here and now. Liberative ethics designed to bring about the kingdom, out of a sense for love and a commitment to justice, attempts to move beyond social reform. For many, the present social structures are rooted in such oppressive presuppositions that they simply cannot be reformed. They must be changed through an ethics that fosters social revolution that radically challenges and dismantles the prevailing political and economic structures.
Methodology of Liberative Ethics The underlying problem with Eurocentric ethics is that moral reasoning is done from the realm of abstractions. Ethics has less to do with “what you do” than “how you think.” The commitment is more to abstract thought than to praxis. When Eurocentric ethics engages in praxis, it is done deductively, starting first with some sort of theory or truth (based on the Bible, or church doctrine, or the writings of a formative ethicist), then moving toward an action taken as a second step. Thus, praxis is shaped by theory. But theories and truths are social constructs that can mask the power and privilege of the one doing the defining of reality. Liberative ethics reverses this methodology, so that theory is shaped by praxis. The doing of liberative ethics is the starting point, with theory or truth being formed by the faith community reflecting on the consequences of the committed praxis. This is understood through what has come to be known as the “hermeneutical circle.” This hermeneutical circle is based on the circular paradigm of “seeing, judging, acting.” The hermeneutical circle begins with the lived experiences endured within oppressive social structures, and then it proceeds by working out a theory and course of action geared to save (liberate) those negatively affected by the prevailing structures. This “acting” step in the liberative model is considered to be the “first act,” upon which reflection and contemplation lead to what is called “theology.” Hence, Christian theology becomes the “second act,” a reflection on Christian ethics.
For Christians, liberative ethics is Christ-centered, where the character of God is best revealed in the personhood of Christ. This Christ is a liberator from all forms of oppression/sin. As such, Jesus can never belong to the oppressors. The advocates of militarism, capitalist triumphalism, and the present distribution of the global resources may claim a Christian faith, but their actions that cause death and oppression serve as proof of their denial of the Christian message of life and liberation. In short, Jesus Christ can never be part of, or belong to, the oppressors. Solidarity with the oppressed demonstrated in the participation of liberative ethics becomes the litmus test to one’s fidelity to the mission of Christ. To fail to engage in liberative ethical praxis that brings about justice is to deny Christ and the kingdom that he advocates.
The Role of the Bible
Among most liberationist ethicists, the biblical text plays an authoritative role in the formation of moral agency. Rejecting both Eurocentric liberal and conservative methodologies of biblical interpretation, the liberationist reads the Scriptures with the goal of understanding the text from the perspective of marginalized communities. If the Bible is “the book of life,” then what precepts are within its pages to assist the oppressed to live the abundant life promised by Christ (John 10:10)? Many of the tenets associated with liberationist thought are shaped by particular books, such as Exodus, where God enters history to liberate the slaves; by the Prophets, where God demands that justice flow for the disenfranchised; and by the Gospels, where Jesus, in the ultimate act of solidarity, takes his place among the crucified people of history.
Liberationists employ a hermeneutic of suspicion when reading the Bible. They are conscious of how biblical readings done from positions of power and privilege shape interpretations that justify lifestyles unresponsive to justice. Likewise, they are aware that their own interpretations are influenced by their social location. Nevertheless, a hermeneutical preferential option is claimed by the oppressed. Because they know what it means to survive in the dominant culture and are aware of what it means to live within marginalized communities, they have a greater grasp of reality than those who do not know what it means to live in marginality. Thus, the oppressed have a truer and more relevant interpretation of the biblical text.
Movements
Originally, liberationist religious thought was a Latin American Catholic response to the brutal right-wing dictatorships and military juntas of the region sponsored by the US government. For many of these early developers of liberationist thought, the poverty and oppression they were witnessing in their homeland was a by-product of US imperialism ushering in the global expansion of the economy and the multinational corporations benefiting from that expansion. A religious and ethical response to this structural sin is what came to be known as “liberation theology.”
The theological and ethical paradigms developed were based on the initiative of implementing the conclusions of Vatican II (1962-65) and its documents (specifically Gaudium et spes [1965]) within a Latin American context. By 1968, a conference was held at Medellin, Colombia, to
discuss the implementation of Vatican II within
Latin America. Working within the church, many came to the realization that the official church was closely linked to the established political order—a relationship that needed to be broken if liberation was to flourish. The ethical praxis that arose as a response to oppressive structures caused by the collusion of state and church developed at the grass roots of the community seeking liberation.
Christian “base communities” became the grassroots, faith-based entities from which lib-erative ethical perspectives were developed and implemented. In these faith communities the dispossessed gathered to discover how their Christian faith could be lived out to create a more just society Because the faith community can never be neutral in the presence of oppressive structures, it must be incarnated among the oppressed through the ethical act of choosing to live in solidarity with the oppressed. As the church evangelizes the oppressed, sharing the good news that God is a God of life and because of God’s love they have worth and dignity, the church is in turn evangelized by the oppressed, who remind the church of its mission as the body of Christ. Thus, the church becomes both a sign and instrument of liberation. Choosing to participate in liberative ethics becomes a proactive option made for, with, and by the marginalized.
Ethics are never developed in a cultural vacuum. All ethics are a reflection of the social location and theological beliefs (or disbeliefs) of a given people. Liberationist ethics is no different. It is indigenous to specific communities, seriously considering the local cultural settings of the group desiring to implement a liberative ethical response to oppressive structures. As such, liberationist ethics cannot be exported from community to community as if it were a commodity. Soon, Protestants were developing their own version of liberative theological work. Besides crossing Christian denominational lines, liberative ethics were also being developed by other faith traditions as rooted in their own faith communities. Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, humanists, and others were soon developing their own liberationist theology and ethics.
Types of Liberative Ethical Movements
Because liberative ethics is contextualized within specific communities, many types exist. Below are but a few examples, with a brief description of what makes them distinctive from other types of liberative ethics.
African: Unlike the liberative ethics in Latin America, which have focused on economic, social, and political oppression, Africans also stress racial oppression, specifically in South Africa, where the focus was on apartheid. Another salient characteristic is the African appreciation for indigenous religions. For some, liberation also includes liberation from nonindigenous religions such as Christianity and Islam.
African American: Liberative ethics takes the form of making the gospel relevant to the black community’s daily struggle against white supremacy. It is rooted in a response against slavery, Jim Crow and Jane Crow, and the consequences felt today from these historical institutions. Black liberative theology and ethics are articulated especially in the teachings of Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X, and are contemporaries to the Latin American project.
Native American: The exodus story, foundational in liberative thought, of a God who liberates slaves and brings them to the promised land is problematic to a people who, like the Canaanites, were invaded, subjected to genocide, and dispossessed of their land by those worshiping this same God. Here the focus is on how native peoples can recover an identity that was systematically decimated by an invading culture so that they can establish, as sovereign entities, liberation in the form of freedom to self-determination.
Asian: Christianity is a minority faith on the diverse religious continent of Asia, leading to a liberative ethics based on Buddhist, Hindu, Confucian, and Taoist principles. Asian lib-erative ethics encompasses all religions. Many Asians participating in liberative ethics also stress a liberation from a narrow Western view of history. In India, dalit theology has focused on dismantling the caste system, while in South Korea minjung becomes a struggle for human rights by basing theological and ethical constructs on those who have no rights, the downtrodden and oppressed.
Feminist: Not to be confused with feminism, which at times focuses more on gaining equal opportunities at the echelons of power, feminist liberative ethics challenges patriarchy with the aim of liberating not just women, but all oppressed groups. There is a refusal
to simply surmount existing economic and
political oppressive structures. With a focus on misogynistic structures, an attempt is made to create a just society for women and the rest of society by challenging the dominant structures in place.
Hispanic: Attention is given to the diversity of this ethnic group and its unique mixture (mestizaje) of races, cultures, languages, and religious beliefs. An emphasis is placed on cultural oppression that leads to ethnic discrimination as witnessed in immigration policies, language ordinances, or economic standing in society in the United States. Although seen as recent arrivals, many Latina/ Latinos occupied the lands (for those with indigenous ancestors) prior to the existence of the United States. Others are victims of “manifest destiny,” as their lands were taken (in the southwestern United States) or conquered for imperialist purposes (especially in the Caribbean and South America), and now they find themselves in the center of the empire.
Womanist: A profound realization exists that women of color must face the prevailing sexism of their community as well as the prevailing racism of white feminists. The liberative ethics that women of color develop attempts to deal with the oppression experienced by the two communities to which they belong.
See also African American Ethics; Class Conflict; Colonialism and Postcolonialism; Feminist Ethics; Imperialism; Justice; Kingdom of God; Latino/Latina Ethics; Liberation; Oppression; Praxis; Preferential Option for the Poor; Race; Racism; Solidarity; Women, Status of
Bibliography
Bonino, J. Toward a Christian Political Ethics. Fortress, 1983; De La Torre, M. Doing Christian Ethics from the Margins. Orbis, 2004; Krammer, C. Ethics and Liberation: An Introduction. Orbis, 1988; Schubeck, T. Liberation Ethics: Sources, Models, and Norms. Fortress, 1993; Townes,
E. Embracing the Spirit: Womanist Perspectives on Hope, Salvation, and Transformation. Orbis, 1997.
Miguel A. De La Torre
In the context of early Christianity, libertinism is a term used by scholars to refer to a philosophy of freedom from moral constraints. According to some interpreters, a group of libertines based in the churches of Corinth practiced sexual license in the name of freedom from the Mosaic law and all other social conventions. This group has been described as gnostic, or incipiently so, on the assumption that gnostic rejection of the physical world as evil led gnostics to be libertine when it came to behaviors involving the body (notably sexual activity). However, close examination of what evidence we have about the gnostics (from the second century and later) supports the conclusion that they tended to be ascetics, not libertines. It is possible that some at Corinth, likely under the influence of Hellenistic dualism (which sharply distinguished the soul and the body, depreciating the latter), interpreted Paul’s teaching about freedom from the Mosaic law to be absolute freedom (see 1 Cor. 6:12; 10:23). They sought to demonstrate their liberty by, for example, eating meat offered to idols and perhaps even practicing various kinds of sexual freedom. One widely held interpretation is that at least some believers at Corinth styled themselves “the spiritual ones” and devalued the body on the theory that their true selves were purely spirit. A consequence of this thinking was that they did not consider things done in the body to be important. From the standpoint of an ethics of the body, they appeared libertine.
The term libertine is also associated with anti-nomian (“against law,” referring to a philosophy of living without any moral regulation). In Rom. 3:8 Paul suggests that some of his detractors accuse him of teaching a gospel that is antinomian or libertine. He denies it (see also Rom. 6:1—2). The basis of their charge is his gospel of justification apart from the law and probably also his preaching that God’s grace abounds freely to those under sin’s power. In Rom. 5:20 Paul writes of the situation of those under the law that “where sin increased, grace abounded all the more,” and in Rom. 6:1 he asks a rhetorical question that likely reflects the charge of antinomianism: “What then are we to say? Should we continue in sin in order that grace might abound?” Paul’s answer is that freedom from the law happens through dying with Christ in baptism, a union with Christ that entails a renewed moral life (Rom. 6:2-19).
See also Antinomianism; Body; 1 Corinthians; Dualism, Anthropological; Freedom; Romans; Sex and Sexuality
Bibliography
Thiselton, A. “Realized Eschatology at Corinth.” NTS 24 (1978): 510-26.
Charles H. Cosgrove
The academy has seen a renewed interest in the connections between liturgy/worship and eth-ics/Christian living since the mid-1970s. Yet this connection pervades the Christian Scriptures. In Scripture, action is rooted in identity: the guidelines for what one does follow from who one is or claims to be. And in Scripture, one’s identity is determined primarily by who one worships, to which god one belongs. In other words, in Scripture, worship is the root of ethics and supplies the criteria of judgment necessary for discerning proper action and the shape of the life of individuals and communities.
Old Testament
Some explorations of Scripture and ethics search for discrete precepts or rules that can be distilled from canonical texts (e.g., the Ten Commandments, the Sermon on the Mount). Such an approach, however, is foreign to the way Scripture understands ethics (a category that is anachronistically applied to Scripture). Rather, ethics—better, what one is to do, how one is to live, how a community is to live together—is rooted in identity. For example, Jews welcomed strangers not primarily because it was a universally right thing do (in fact, it could be quite dangerous), but because they were Jews, they were God’s people, who themselves “were once strangers in the land of Egypt” (Exod. 23:9; Lev. 19:34).
In Scripture, moreover, identity is rooted in worship: who one worships determines who (or whose) one is. Not only strangers but also slaves, the Israelites were liberated by God not simply to be free from the Egyptians; they were liberated to become God’s people, to become the people who worship only Yahweh (e.g., Exod. 3:18; 7:16). This relationship between worship and identity is signaled in a number of ways. It was established liturgically, in the rite of the paschal lamb, whose blood marked the Israelites’ identity as those to be “passed over” when the final plague visited Egypt. It was sustained liturgically in the annual celebration of the Passover and other holy days wherein the Israelites reaffirmed their identity, celebrated God’s mighty deeds, repented of their sins, and restored right relationship with God and
one another.
Further, it shapes the Mosaic covenant, where guidelines for worship and living are inseparably intertwined. The Decalogue (often misidentified as a code of ethics) is fundamentally liturgical, beginning as it does with injunctions regarding right worship: “I, the Lord, am your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, that place of slavery. You shall not have other gods besides me” (Exod. 20:2-3 NAB). The entire first table of the Decalogue focuses on worship—idols, God’s name, the Sabbath. Worship, then, is the larger overarching and necessary context for understanding the remaining commandments in the Decalogue. Likewise, the 613 commandments in the Torah are a similarly integrated complex of injunctions about worship and life. Right relationship, right action, right form of communal life, the OT proclaims, can follow only from Israel’s right relationship with God.
Finally, the purpose of this action and life is worship—to give glory to God. The commandments are for God’s people. They distinguish Israel from the peoples among whom Israel finds itself. They trace what life looks like in a community that worships only God. How Israel lives bears witness to God’s power, presence, and truth. And when done rightly, it gives glory to God.
Of course, the very first thing the Israelites do after receiving the covenant is commit idolatry (Exod. 32). This becomes the overarching theme of the OT: Israel’s continued idolatry, the consequences, and God’s continued call for Israel to return to right worship. Certainly, the Israelites, both individually and corporately, violate many if not all of the commandments of the Torah. They commit adultery, kill, exploit the poor, fail to care for widows and orphans, and more. But the authors of Scripture make clear that this failure to follow the commandments and live in right relationship with one another follows from their worship of their neighbors’ false gods and their failure to properly worship Yahweh. The prophets never uncouple the connection between right worship and right living (e.g., Isa. 58:1-14; Hosea).
New Testament and the Early Church
The NT continues the story of Israel and shares the
moral logic of the OT. Thus, worship and ethics are again inseparable. In Jesus’ temptations in the desert, the fundamental question is one of idolatry, which he finally answers decisively with a version of the Shema, an OT liturgical practice that orients all life toward the worship of Yahweh (Matt. 4:10). When asked to identify the greatest commandment, Jesus again begins with the Shema: “You shall love the Lord your God . . .” (Matt. 22:37). In the Gospels, Israel once again finds itself oppressed with its religious and political leadership engaging in the externals of religious ritual but worshiping in fact at the altars of idols, particularly the power of the Roman Empire. Thus, the hearers of the prophetic proclamation are called to repent, to turn again to God, to live under God’s kingship again, for as in Egypt, “the kingdom of God is at hand” (Mark 1:15).
To live as God’s people—to worship, love, and trust God—leads to distinctive and countercultural economic, social, and political practices. Thus, God’s people will care for those along the wayside (Luke 10:25-37), forgive (John 7:53-8:11), give away all their possessions (Matt. 19:16-24), love enemies (Matt. 5:44), make peace (Matt. 5:9), and more (see Matt. 5-7). Such is the distinctive witness of those who now follow Jesus (Matt. 16:24), God incarnate, as the Israelites followed Yahweh in the desert.
As in the OT, liturgical practice remains key for orienting all of life toward the worship of God. Echoing events of the exodus, the blood of Christ spilled in the passion on the Passover establishes the new covenant and demarcates God’s people from those who worship other gods. Those baptized into his “name” (cf. the Decalogue) are grafted into God’s people, the church, be they Jew or gentile. They are sustained in their identity as the body of Christ in the sharing of the Eucharist. This liturgical participation calls and shapes them to imitate individually and corporately God incarnate, the Christ, in whom they participate.
Yet as with the Israelites, the early church falls into idolatry and false worship. Destructive factionalism stems from idolatrous claims to “belong” to baptizers rather than to Christ (1 Cor. 1-4); it is the “double-minded” who wish to be friends with God and the world who meet the greatest censure (Jas. 1:8; 4:8); even the appearance of idolatry is cautioned against (Acts 15:29; 1 Cor. 8:4-13). And the cause for one of Paul’s most extensive liturgical discussions is the scandalous continuation of economic divisions in the context of the Lord’s Supper (1 Cor. 11:17-34). Constructively, liturgical language becomes the idiom for Christian living—Christians are called to become a “living sacrifice” (Rom. 12:1—2)— and the paschal referent of that sacrifice becomes the repeated warrant: for reconciliation (2 Cor. 5:17-20), caring for the poor (Gal. 2:10), loving one’s enemies (Matt. 5:44), and more. In short, the shape of the life of the Christian community is to follow from its identity as Christ’s body sustained through participation in a panoply of communal and liturgical practices (1 Cor. 11:1; Phil. 2:5-11) (see Yoder).
Contemporary Context
These connections between worship and the Christian life continue through most of Christian history. From the martyrs to the monastics and the saints, the Christian tradition is replete with those concerned not simply with doing good in the world, making right decisions, or even living upright, moral lives. Rather, the tradition is peopled with exemplars primarily concerned with being united with Christ via prayer and liturgy and thereby living in the form of Christ in the world.
With the advent of nominalism and voluntarism in the fourteenth century, Luther’s notion of “the two kingdoms,” and the Enlightenment, this connection was severed, and “morality” became a separate sphere of inquiry, a realm of individual decision-making for which “rational” (i.e., universal) justifications must now be discovered. Yet, a return to Scripture and tradition complicates this notion of morality as well as other conventional assumptions—for example, that a sustainable theological distinction can be made between issues in “social” ethics (e.g., poverty) as opposed to “personal” ethics (e.g., sexuality).
A Christian ethic that seeks to take Scripture and tradition seriously must grapple with the almost constant witness of Scripture and tradition that the norms for Christian living derive from one’s identity as a member of God’s people, of Christ’s body, the church, and that the primary question for any ethic is this: who or what does one worship (Hauerwas and Wells)?
See also Ecclesiology and Ethics; Idolatry Bibliography
Hauerwas, S., and S. Wells, eds. The Blackwell Companion to Christian Ethics. Blackwell, 2006; Saliers, D., E. Anderson, and B. Morrill. Liturgy and the Moral Self: Humanity at Full Stretch. Liturgical Press, 1998; Searle, M. “Liturgy and Social Ethics: An Annotated Bibliography.” SL 21 (1991): 220-35; Spohn, B. Go and Do Likewise: Jesus and Ethics. Continuum, 2000; Yoder, J. Body Politics: Five Practices of the Christian Community before the Watching World. Herald Press, 2001.
M. Therese Lysaught
Living Will See Bioethics
In the contemporary world, “to lend” typically refers to the practice of granting someone the use of something with the expectation that it be returned, or of giving someone the use of money with the explicit agreement that it will be repaid with interest. Although the worlds of Israel and the early church knew such practices, lending in the Bible has a different emphasis. Here, lending typically takes the form of generosity to the needy, and in the NT in particular, economic relations, including lending, should avoid the demands of obligation and reciprocity.
Lending in the Old Testament
Three texts in the Pentateuch introduce key parameters for understanding lending in the OT. The first is Exod. 22:25: “If you lend money to my people, to the poor among you, you shall not deal with them as a creditor; you shall not exact interest from them.” The mention of the poor indicates that the text does not refer to regular commercial loans, even though it speaks of money and not goods in kind. It is possible to imagine successful Israelite farmers borrowing to enlarge their herds, for example, but the OT does not refer to such loans. Rather, it presupposes a situation in which, for example, a farmer’s harvest has failed and he needs to borrow to feed his family and/or buy seed for the next year.
The Hebrew term for “interest” is nesek (literally, “bite”). Other passages use the words tar-bit and marbit (literally, “increase”) with similar meaning. Older English translations (e.g., the KJV) understand the words to refer to “usury” (i.e., excessive interest, however that may be defined), but this is mistaken. The text forbids any lending to the poor at interest. Many English translations also introduce the idea of charging interest or the idea of usury into the use of the verbs nasa/nasa and related nouns, though in themselves these verbs simply refer to lending. But Exod. 22:25 does tell people not to behave like lenders (nosim) when they lend (lawa) money. It looks as if lawa refers to lending in general, in the way that an ordinary person might lend something to a friend, whereas nasal nasa refers to something more formal or commercial, which by its nature would likely involve interest.
Nevertheless, it would be possible for creditors to keep the regulation concerning lending at interest yet still treat debtors oppressively. Lenders are not to take the necessities of life as pledges, such as an ox or ass, a garment, a millstone, or an infant (Deut. 24:6, 17; Job 22:6; 24:3, 9). One oppressive lender is the man who insists on taking away a widow’s children (so that they can work for him) because of the family’s debt (2 Kgs. 4:1). A story in Neh. 5 concerns oppressive lending; it may refer to charging interest or to other actions such as foreclosing on loans. It alludes to two reasons for debt: crop failure and imperial taxation. These two stories also make clear the results of default. One may forfeit fields, orchards, and houses, and/or one may end up in “slavery”—that is, temporary indentured labor (not chattel slavery).
A second key text, Lev. 25:35-37, expands on the point in Exod. 22:25, referring to the poor as “your kin” and referring to the need to “fear [better, ‘revere’] your God.” It also refers to lending food, which makes more explicit the kind of predicament, such as a poor harvest, that the texts are concerned to regulate. People who are doing well are expected to lend freely to the needy and to accept payment in the form of labor or the eventual repayment of the debt in money that the person had earned through labor. So debtors would seek to work their way back to solvency by committing themselves to indentured labor for a set period or to paid employment in relation to someone who did have land—the equivalent to getting a job rather than the norm of being self-employed.
A third text, Deut. 23:19-20, makes explicit that people must not impose interest on any form of loan, while also permitting Israelites to impose interest on loans to foreigners, as one does not have to remit a foreigner’s debts in the Sabbath Year (Deut. 15:3). This is an example of a number of obligations that did not apply to foreigners. It did not imply that usury was acceptable in relation to foreigners; the OT says nothing about usury per se. It may presuppose that loans to foreigners were commercial loans; a foreigner who was in need would be covered by the provisions for the resident alien.
Beyond the Pentateuch, Prov. 28:8 promises that people who augment their wealth by lending at interest gather it “for people who are kind to the poor”; that is, they will not see the profit themselves. Psalm 15 asks who may sojourn in God’s tent—that is, stay in God’s presence. Its answer includes the general requirement of a life of integrity and truthfulness, and also some concrete expectations such as avoiding slander, keeping oaths, refusing bribes, and not lending money at interest. The prophet Ezekiel speaks in similar terms in listing obligations that people should fulfill if they wish God to treat them as righteous, such as not worshiping by means of images, defiling their neighbors’ wives, robbing people, or lending at interest (Ezek. 18:8, 13, 17). Ezekiel implies that people were not fulfilling these obligations, and later he makes explicit that the well-to-do rulers in Jerusalem have committed many of the wrongs that he lists, including this one (Ezek. 22:12).
This draws our attention to the fact that we cannot draw inferences from the law of Moses regarding actual Israelite practice. The OT histories include no reference to Israel’s ever having implemented the teaching about the Sabbath Year or the Jubilee Year, let alone lending without charging interest, and they include a number of criticisms of Israel regarding such matters. Yet we may mislead ourselves in expecting that Israelite practice would necessarily be expected to conform literally to Moses’ teaching, as if it were some kind of law. Christians, at least, tend to understand Moses’ teaching as “law,” but the word torn has broader meaning. Although it includes regulations that look designed for quasi-legal literal implementation, other material looks more like concrete embodiments of a style of life whose point we would miss if we took it legally; that is, we might fulfill the law’s letter but not its inner demand. Thus, the ban on charging interest would indeed have been intended for literal implementation, but when we ask about its implications for us in a different social context, we must also look at it in the light of its stated rationale—for example, its concern for the poor. On the one hand, in more commercial contexts and in a competitive situation, people might charge interest on commercial loans without infringing the baseline concerns underlying this teaching. On the other hand, where lending to needy people or needy nations is a way of making money, this would seem in conflict with the principles of the Torah.
Exodus 22:25 begins, “If you lend . . . ,” but it does presuppose that lending will occur. To refuse to lend would contravene other exhortations regarding concern for the needy. The point is explicit in Deut. 15, which urges people to lend generously. Righteous people do well in life and therefore are in a position to give and to lend and thus to be a blessing (Ps. 37:25-26). Things go well for the person who deals generously and lends (Ps. 112:5).
Lending in the New Testament In the first-century Mediterranean world, the world of the NT, the government and landowners were sustained by a population, the overwhelming majority of whom drew their livelihood from agricultural activities. Much of this world, then, was analogous to the world of the OT in its traditional agrarian character. Surprisingly, even though debt was a prominent feature of the world of which the Gospels speak, the practice of lending is rarely mentioned. The onerous nature of overwhelming debt is portrayed in Matt. 18:23-35. The only reference to lending on interest is found in a parable that portrays a man distributing assets to his slaves and expecting that in his absence they will turn a profit (Matt. 25:14-30 // Luke 19:11-27). One slave, however, takes the money assigned to him out of circulation and is berated for not at least collecting interest (Matt. 25:27; Luke 19:23). If anything, this parable only adds to a generally negative portrait of lending with interest, since this advice comes from someone otherwise characterized as a fraud with exploitative business practices.
The Greek term for lending and borrowing, daneizo (“to lend” in the active voice, “to borrow” in the middle voice), appears in the NT only three times. Thus, Jesus urges his followers to lend to whoever asks for a loan (Matt. 5:42), extends this directive even to enemies, and instructs that those who lend should be “expecting nothing in return” (Luke 6:34-35). Here and elsewhere, Jesus underscores the importance of relationships not determined by strict reciprocity, even teaching his disciples to ask God to “forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us” (Luke 11:4). Similarly, Paul urges followers of Christ to avoid falling under the control of creditors or entangling themselves in relationships of obligation that would detract from their devotion to one another (Rom. 13:8).
Lending after the Bible
Through the first millennium, the church affirmed the OT notion that lending on interest was disapproved, on the continuing presupposition that lending was an aspect of care for the needy. In practice, lending on interest was tolerated as long as rates were not excessive, but in the impoverished conditions of fourth-century Cappadocia leading Christian voices spoke forcefully against lending and borrowing money. Even though lenders were known to exceed the upper limits set on interest rates (12 percent), interest charged was less lucrative than the lands and property gained when the poor defaulted on their loans. In his sermon “On Usury,” Basil urges the poor not to borrow and rails against lenders who increased their opulence at the price of the suffering poor. Instead, lending ought to take the form of a gift to the poor, which would be seen as lending to God (see Prov. 19:17).
In the second millennium, commerce began to develop in new ways, and the practice of lending on interest became prevalent, initially despite the church’s opposition. In due course, however, the church conformed itself to secular practices and provided a theological rationale for it. In fifteenth-century Italy, for example, public pawnshops developed with Franciscan support to offer loans to the poor more cheaply than those offered by regular moneylenders, charging a very low interest designed simply to cover expenses. In 1516 the Fifth Lateran Council approved these. As years went by, these pawnshops began also to lend for commercial purposes at higher rates.
Unbound by the course of discussion within the medieval church and perceiving that the OT was concerned with caring for the poor and not with commercial loans, John Calvin removed the ban on lending at interest, with safeguards that predictably were conveniently forgotten. In due course, the Roman Catholic Church also removed its ban on lending at interest. More seriously, as the capitalist world developed, the point that biblical perspectives on lending were tied to care of the needy was lost. In Victorian Britain the cooperative and building society movements attempted to recover it. In effect, the customers of the cooperative were the shareholders, while building societies worked by attracting safe investments from people who hoped eventually to buy a house and lending the money to people who were already in a position to do so.
Clearly, the focus of the scriptural material is on the predicament of needy people. Lending is a way to care for the needy, not a way to make money.
See also Almsgiving; Capitalism; Charity, Works of; Economic Ethics; Exploitation; Greed; Jubilee; Poverty and Poor; Profit; Resource Allocation; Wealth
Bibliography
Gnuse, R. You Shall Not Steal: Community and Property in the Biblical Tradition. Orbis, 1985; Goldingay, J. Israel’s Life. Vol. 3 of Old Testament Theology. InterVarsity, 2009; Gonzalez, J. Faith and Wealth: A History of Early Christian Ideas on the Origin, Significance, and Use of Money. Harper & Row, 1990.
John Goldingay and Joel B. Green Lottery See Gambling