The term praxis signifies a complexity and multiplicity of meanings. Its most traditional definition has been “practice” or “action.” Aristotle
is believed to have been the first to use praxis as a philosophical term. For him, praxis referred to the public activity in which free men (not women or children) engaged within the political realm. Convinced that pure reason was insufficient in achieving knowledge, Aristotle saw praxis combining rational reflection with activity within the polis. In effect, praxis was the ideal mean between practical reason and virtuous action. Praxis was further nuanced by Augustine, who attempted to balance praxis (a life of practicing Christian deeds) with contemplating the afterlife. As medieval times began, praxis ceased to mean “how we ought to live” and instead referred to how we must live in our present temporary sojourn through this earth as we prepare for the eschatological hope. With the rediscovering of Aristotle in the twelfth century, Thomas Aquinas
attempted to reconcile Aristotelian thought with
Christianity by making practical truth an extension of theoretical truth. As such, praxis became the application of theory. By the nineteenth century, thinkers such as Karl Marx further developed the concept of praxis as a practical response to the economic consequences of industrialization. Praxis was a way of knowing and a way of affecting reality. Through praxis, the proletariat could claim their role as “historic subjects.”
Today, the term praxis usually is connected with theologies of liberation, theologies that seriously considered Marx’s challenge for a “philosophy of praxis.” Praxis attempts to move beyond practice or action toward a lifestyle that demonstrates how the gospel of Christ is to be lived. Christianity becomes what we do, more so than what we believe. In the doing of justice, theology is developed as a reflection of the doing. Rather than having action flow from theological thought (the deductive norm common within most Eurocentric theological traditions), praxis occurs when theological reflection is brought
to bear on the liberating actions committed. And
while the ultimate hope may be a messianic perfect justice, for now, such justice serves as a touchstone for Christian praxis in the quest for God’s will.
For those engaged in praxis-based theologies, knowing what is “truth” remains insufficient for the Christian life. The dichotomy between theology and practice is collapsed as the understanding of theology moves beyond faith formulas or dogmas. The purpose of theology is praxis, the doing of theology, known as “orthopraxis” (correct action). Thus, there exists a greater emphasis on orthopraxis than on “orthodoxy” (correct doctrine). More important than developing philosophical abstract concepts about the things of divinity, those engaged in praxis-based theologies strive to ascertain the meaning of human existence by being faithful to God’s calling in God’s overall objective of redeeming creation from the power of sin, with sin being understood as private and corporate oppressive acts that cause alienation from God and community. The starting point for orthopraxis is found within the space and experience of disenfranchised people. The purpose of doing theology, or orthopraxis, is not to grasp mystery but rather to change the structures causing oppression for the hope and sake of possibly liberating those who live under the yoke of injustices.
For liberationists, to be a Christian is to do justice-based praxis via a three-stage process involving a seeing-judging-acting methodology. Praxis marks the start of theological reflection for the purpose of achieving emancipatory transformation of oppressive social structures and situations. Because praxis is political, it seeks liberation from sin, specifically the corporate sins responsible for oppressive structures. This liberative praxis, as synthesis of the dialectical relationship between theory and practice, is conducted by and for the oppressed participating freely within the polis. To walk with and be committed to the oppressed is to discover Christ, who is present among them. Praxis, according to Gustavo Gutierrez, can be understood as (1) “socio-political-economic,” an expression of the oppressed breaking away from the subjugation caused by these structures; (2) “historical-utopian,” an intention of the oppressed to determine their own destiny; and (3) “Christian,” an interpretation of liberation as freedom from sin (personal and communal) and as communion, based on love, with God and neighbor.
Theologies arising in the United States that seek liberation from oppressive structures that emerge from Asian American, black, feminist, Latino/ Latina, and Native American communities usually are praxis-based. These theological expressions become the reflection of the praxis in which the faith community engages, a praxis in which the goal is to bring about liberation from both corporate and individual sins. For these communities, to do theology is to participate in the actions of God, actions motivated by God’s love and best illustrated in the figure of Jesus the Christ. Such praxes are both prophetic (engaging the oppressive structures of the dominant culture) and pastoral (consciousness-raising among the disenfranchised as a form of empowerment).
See also Liberationist Ethics; Practice
Miguel A. De La Torre
The phrase “preferential option for the poor” became popular at the Second General Conference of Latin American Bishops in Puebla, Mexico, in 1979; however, some historians and theologians find its origin at the previous Episcopal Conference in Medellin, Colombia, in 1968, where Gustavo Gutierrez, one of the advisers to the Medellin meeting, gave a presentation delineating the foundations for his theology, which was labeled as “theology of liberation.” A few years later, his presentation became a book published in English in 1973 under the title A Theology of Liberation: History, Politics, and Salvation, in which he explains this phrase. Regardless of its historic origin, Gutierrez was clear about its theological origins; for him, the phrase is grounded in pastoral care— that is, pastoral care and concern for those who are poor. For this reason, the phrase “preferential option for the poor” has always been grounded in pastoral theology, which seeks practical eccle-siological and pastoral ways to respond to poverty-stricken parishioners in the context of Latin America. Thus, the preferential option for the poor is much more than an abstract theological concept; it is a call to action and a challenge to the church and society to respond to the cry of the needy by changing the circumstances and structures that keep the poor in deplorable conditions, unable to satisfy their most basic needs.
Although the phrase is practical in nature and requires action, it is also grounded in significant biblical and theological reflection. The basic premise and foundation of the phrase are rooted in God’s character and God’s protection of “the least.” For those who embrace the preferential option for the poor, God is always on the side of the poor—the least, the marginal, and the powerless. For them, there is clear evidence that God favors the poor by offering special attention, care, and protection to them. But it is this very point that leads many to criticize this theological approach as unfair because of its favoritism of the poor, which the word preferential seems to imply. The notion that God favors the poor raises concerns for some who affirm that God has no favorites (Rom. 2:11). Furthermore, others think that portraying God’s character as opting for the poor denies the universality and inclusiveness of God’s divine love and grace. If God demonstrates special care and affection for the least, one is led to think that God cares more for the poor than other groups. These two points of view are crucial in denying the moral significance and claims of the preferential option for the poor.
In responding to this type of criticism, Gutierrez and other liberation theologians highlight the importance of the practical aspects of the words preference and option in the controversial phrase and in their theology. Also, they point out the importance of their social context as the starting point. It is clear that their initial arguments are centered in responding theologically and pastorally to the needs of the poor in Latin America; however, they do not separate their context from the core and centrality of their moral claims. For Gutierrez and other theologians, when God favors the poor, it does not mean that God overlooks the rich and powerful, nor does it mean that God’s love for wealthy and powerful persons is placed at a lower level than God’s love for the poor. For them, the explanation is simple and is centered on distributive justice based on need. They argue that God favors, protects, and opts for the poor because they have greater needs, both immediate and long-range. By contrast, the argument that God should care for each person equally regardless of economic and social condition would affirm and portray God as one who overlooks those who are dying (because their basic needs are not met) for the sake of treating everyone equally. For Gutierrez and other theologians, such a view is inconsistent with God’s character as depicted in the Scriptures, since divine justice is a response to human need. In their interpretation, God’s character is such that God cannot (and will not) remain neutral or inactive in the face of negligence and destitution; God works proactively and cares and protects the poor because they are in need and nobody is caring for them.
God’s action is twofold: it provides immediate relief to the poor and it denounces the oppression that is at work in society, social structures, and local churches in the form of failure to care for the poor. In this interpretation, God’s action does not mean that God opts for and/or favors the poor by excluding the rich and powerful; the opposite is true. By reaching out to the least, God is being “all inclusive,” which is demonstrated in this very action. In other words, if God is able to love the least, those at the very bottom of society, then by doing so God is proving the universality of divine grace and love extended to all; that is, by reaching the bottom, God has reached everyone from the top down. Furthermore, God’s action and call include both the poor and the rich; for the poor, God takes action to fulfill their needs, while God calls the rich to share their wealth with those in need.
Thus, the preferential option for the poor is the result of conscientious study of the Scriptures in the face of poverty in Latin America. However, many in other contexts who have followed this
approach have identified the powerless in their societies and have provided practical responses by challenging social structures and by promoting a needs-based justice.
See also Liberation; Liberationist Ethics; Oppression; Poverty and Poor
Bibliography
Gutierrez, G. Evangelizacion y Opcion pot los Pobres. Edi-ciones Paulinas, 1987; idem. A Theology of Liberation: History, Politics, and Salvation. Trans. and ed. C. Inda and J. Eagleson. Orbis, 1973; Segundo, J. Liberation of Theology. Trans. J. Drury. Orbis, 1976.
Hugo Magallanes
Prejudice is an attitude, judgment, or feeling about a person, either positive or negative, that emerges from stereotypic beliefs held about the group to which the person belongs. Stereotypes drive prejudice because they involve generalizations that are factually incorrect in that people from out-groups do not uniformly possess the same characteristics. Discrimination, the behavioral manifestation of prejudice, involves responding to a person on the basis of the person’s group membership, not the individual facts about the person. Thus, stereotypes lead to the discriminatory behavior that manifests prejudice (Jones).
Negative Prejudice in the Bible
Some of the discussion about prejudice and biblical ethics concerns the degree to which biblical teachings contain or endorse prejudicial attitudes about various groups in society. For example, the so-called curse of Ham in Gen. 9:20-27 was used as a justification for antiblack sentiment and slavery for generations. In this text, Ham fails to cover his father Noah’s exposed, drunken body, and in response Noah curses Ham’s son Canaan to slavery. Racist interpretations of the story extended this curse to all of the black peoples listed in the adjacent Table of Nations in Gen. 10, though that account concerns the relationships among the peoples in the ancient Near East and especially the relationship of Israelites to Canaanites, and never makes an association between skin color and slavery. Although Canaanites stand in opposition to Israelites, one scholar notes that other voices in the tradition undermine this view, pointing out that the characterization of named Canaanites in the conquest narrative is strikingly positive (Davis). In the NT, Jesus’ caustic and stereotypic attitude toward the Canaanite woman in Matt. 15:22-29 // Mark 7:25-29 generates no little interpretive uneasiness, though the episode may represent a critical moment in which Jesus learns about the broader scope of his mission from “the least of these” (cf. Matt. 7:5) (Scott). Titus 1:12-13 describes a stereotypic generalization about Cretans, and 1 Tim. 2:12-14, which makes a similar sweeping statement about the gullibility of women, is the subject of endless debate in some circles.
Scriptural Teaching against Negative Prejudice
Many see teaching about the poor and other marginalized segments of Israelite society as analogous to and representative of biblical attitudes against prejudice. In this vein, the OT concern with attitudes toward aliens or foreigners in ancient Israel is especially important. The consensus in nineteenth- and twentieth-century scholarship is that the get (“alien”; LXX: proselytos) is a nonIsraelite living within Israelite territory, though more recent scholarship disputes the exact identity of gertm (Bultmann; Ramirez Kidd). The get often appears in the triad “get, widow, orphan,” where it is associated with a concern for social justice relative to the most helpless members of society (Deut. 10:17-19; 14:29; 24:17-21; 27:19; cf. Exod. 12:48; 22:21; 23:9; Lev. 19:10, 34; Ezek. 47:22-23; Isa. 14:1). In the NT, Jesus models concern for the poor and marginalized throughout the Gospel narratives (Matt. 5:3 // Luke 6:20; Matt. 19:16-22 // Mark 10:17-22 // Luke 18:18-23; Mark 12:41-44 // Luke 21:1-4), and Luke’s emphasis on the poor is prominent throughout (e.g., Luke 4:16-19; 14:12-14, 21; 19:1-10). His treatment of Samaritans in six episodes is especially pertinent to the subject of prejudice, given traditional hostility between Israelites and Samaritans (Luke 9:51-56; 10:25-37; 17:11-19; Acts 1:8; 8:4-25; 15:3), and the ethnicity of the exemplar of the good neighbor in the parable of the good Samaritan would have been particularly shocking in this regard. Paul is also sensitive to the power dynamics that accompany manifestations of negative prejudice. His mediation of disputes in the community between the strong and the weak, and the haves and the have-nots, is invariably addressed to the powerful (Rom. 14:14-23; 1 Cor. 8:9-12; 10:28; 11:18-22). According to Paul, attitudes of superiority and inferiority threaten the functioning of the church as the body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:21-26), and his description of the unity of a multicultural people in Christ figures prominently in contemporary reflection on racial and ethnic prejudice in modern society and in the church (Gal. 3:28; cf. Eph. 2:1122). Finally, in the General Epistles, Jas. 2:1-13 has one of the most explicit injunctions against prejudice or partiality in the NT, describing it as a violation of the “royal law” that has eschatological consequences (Felder).
See also Discrimination; Racism Bibliography
Bultmann, C. Der Fremde im antiken Juda: Eine Unter-suchung zum sozialen Typenbegriff "ger” und seinem Be-deutungswandel in der alttestamentlichen Gesetzgebung. FRLANT 153. Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1992; Davis, E. “Critical Traditioning: Seeking an Inner Biblical Hermeneutic.” AThR 82 (2000): 733—51; Felder, C. “Partiality and God’s Law: An Exegesis of James 2:1—13.” JRT 39 (1982—83): 51—69; Hays, J. From Every People and Nation: A Biblical Theology of Race. InterVarsity, 2003; Jones, J. Prejudice and Racism. 2nd ed. McGraw-Hill, 1997; Ramirez Kidd, J. Alterity and Identity in Israel: The "ger” in the Old Testament. BZAW 283. De Gruyter, 1999; Scott, J. “Matthew 15.21—28: A Test-Case for Jesus’ Manners.” JSNT 63 (1996): 21-44.
Love L. Sechrest
Pride is a central concept in Christianity. It is one of the seven deadly sins, often regarded as the most basic description of sin and as the fount of all other sins. It represents powerfully the nature of our condition before God and reminds us of how our sin is acted out in our relationship to God, to one another, to creation, and to ourselves. Pride has been variously defined as inordinate self-esteem, boasting, rebellion, and more, but if we allow ourselves to be instructed by Scripture, we will hold any definition loosely so that the narrative guides our discernment of pride.
Pride may be observed in the attitudes and behavior of humankind. Reinhold Niebuhr pursues this course with power and insight. He examines manifestations of pride following a traditional catalog of pride of power, knowledge, and virtue, deriving from the last an additional manifestation of spiritual pride. Niebuhr’s exposition and analysis expose the phenomena of pride in persons and society. But beyond claiming biblical warrant for pride being the basic sin, Niebuhr rarely draws from Scripture. Niebuhr’s account is a powerful phenomenological account of sin as pride, but for all its insight, it does not give us a full scriptural account.
If we are to think biblically about pride, we may be guided by two approaches. One approach submits to the passages where pride is explicitly named and described, usually with an accompanying declaration of God’s judgment. We may call this the exegetical-theological approach. Another approach submits our inquiry to stories of pride in persons and societies that also describe God’s judgment. We may call this the narratological approach.
In the exegetical-theological approach, we have a number of passages to turn to, especially in the OT. There the most instructive verses are found in Proverbs (8:13; 11:2; 13:10; 14:3; 16:18; 29:23). In these passages pride is tied to folly, teaching us that the proud make a basic error in their judgment of reality and in measuring one’s place within the world that God has created. As a result of this error in judgment and perception, the proud contribute to disorder, breeding contention and furthering the development of evil ways in creation. In Proverbs we learn also that pride manifests itself bodily, in haughty eyes and lips. These descriptions may be extended as figures of speech, but we must not lose the physical reference. Pride shows itself outwardly in the appearance of proud lips as well as the speech that comes from those lips, in the cast of proud eyes as well as the way that the world is viewed through those eyes. Finally, in Proverbs we learn also that Yahweh’s order in creation, wisdom itself, works against the proud and brings them to destruction. This declaration occurs in the midst of recognizing the apparent prosperity and success of the proud. (See also Ps. 73. Proverbs and this psalm teach us the limitations of a phenomenological account of pride.) But those instructed in wisdom know that the divine order bestows blessing and life on those who fear Yahweh and submit themselves to wisdom. The proud do not fear Yahweh and do not submit themselves to wisdom. They are already in Sheol.
In the narratological approach, we have many stories in the OT. Although the word pride does not occur in the passage, Gen. 3 provides a piercing account. There, our first parents exalt themselves and by their actions declare themselves to be creators, not creatures (“you will be like God” [Gen. 3:5]). This prideful act disorders God’s creation. It breaks the proper relationship between the Creator and the creature, thus bringing death to humans. It breaks our proper relationship to one another, thus introducing conflict and mistrust. Pride also disorders our relationship to the rest of creation, as God describes both the increase in birth pains as we seek to fulfill the mandate to fill the earth and the toil that will be required for us to rule over the rest of creation. Finally, pride disorders each person’s relationship to self, dividing each individual so that each is ashamed. This narrative reveals to us the fundamental brokenness of the sin of pride and indicates the devastating trajectory that self-exaltation works out in the history of creation.
To this narratological approach Karl Barth adds a significant development: an extended narrato-logical-christological practice of interpretation. In following this practice, Barth demonstrates its power to witness to God’s work in our world. Here the emphasis is not on the human predicament but rather on God’s gracious revelation of our predicament and his redemptive work in Christ. After submitting ourselves to this story, we can turn to our lives in the world and see the work of pride with greater clarity, depth, and breadth in the context of God’s work in Christ.
For Barth’s narratological-christological practice of interpretation, the sin of pride is best exposed by the coming of Jesus Christ. In this act, God the Son humbles himself to become human. In contrast to human self-exaltation that is the entrance of sin, God’s self-humbling brings reconciliation. What could be more revelatory of human pride than this act of God? And what could be more prideful—and sinful—than unbelief in this act of God? In the light cast by this coming of the Son we see most fully the pride of human beings: not in pride that rejects God’s order in turning to folly rather than wisdom, or in our self-exaltation as creators rather than creatures, but in our unbelief in the salvation accomplished for us and revealed to us in the self-humiliation of God in Christ. Here is the pride of humankind fully exposed to the judgment of God’s grace.
One more aspect of Barth’s exposition must be noted for us to understand more fully the sin of pride in the church’s tradition. As a complement to the sin of pride, Barth exposits the sin of sloth as the mirror image of pride. Whereas pride is the self-exaltation of the human being, sloth is the self-abasement of the human being. Both are sins that misconstrue the relationship between God and humanity and thus between humanity and all else. Valerie Saiving persuasively argues that we must not concentrate so completely on pride as sin that we miss its mirror image, sloth.
At this point, we may be able to understand why Christianity regards pride as sinful and humility as righteous, in contrast to Aristotle, Nietzsche, and others who regard pride as a virtue and humility as a vice. For Christians, the exaltation of the human is accomplished by God in Christ. We may, then, boast in Christ, as Paul does, but we do so with a humility that is not feigned but arises from faith in Christ that properly orients our lives to God and redeems us from self-exaltation and self-abasement.
See also Cruciformity; Humility; Meekness; Self; Seven Deadly Sins; Sin; Sloth
Bibliography
Augustine. Concerning the City of God against the Pagans. Trans. H. Bettenson. Penguin Books, 1972; Barth, K. Church Dogmatics. Vol. IV/1, §60.2. T&T Clark, 1956; Bonhoeffer, D. Creation and Fall: A Theological Exposition of Genesis 1—3. Ed. J. de Gruchy Trans. D. Bax. Fortress, 1997; Cassian, John. The Conferences. ACW 57. Paulist Press, 1997; Lewis, C. S. “The Great Sin.” Pages 121—28 in Mere Christianity. HarperCollins, 2001; Niebuhr, R. Human Nature. Vol. 1 of The Nature and Destiny of Man: A Christian Interpretation. LTE. Westminster John Knox, 1996; Saiving, V “The Human Situation: A Feminine View.” Pages 25-42 in Womanspirit Rising: A Feminist Reader in Religion, ed. C. Christ and J. Plaskow. Harper & Row, 1979; Thomas Aquinas. Summa theologiae II-I, q. 84; Waltke, B. Proverbs. 2 vols. NICOT. Eerdmans, 2004-5.
Jonathan R. Wilson
The Priestly material in the OT principally comprises the book of Leviticus, broadly understood (the “Priestly” and “Holiness” material); the framework of the rest of the Pentateuch (e.g., parts of Genesis, parts of Exodus and Numbers); as well as the book of Ezekiel, again broadly understood, since it shows considerable Priestly influence, among other texts. The Priestly material is routinely considered of little ethical import by modern readers due to its interest in the arcane details of Israelite worship of Yahweh, Israel’s God, and due to its intense focus on the arrangement of time and space that supports appropriate worship. Despite these apparent handicaps, the Priestly material is of considerable interest for ethics. The Priestly writers understood a unitary cosmos in which human actions have cosmic import, and thus questions of ethics are always at least implicitly present and of vital importance.
The Priestly worldview is shaped by a particular concern for the sanctity of time and space (e.g., the emphasis on divisions of time and space in Gen. 1, a Priestly text). In the Pentateuch time is divided into three distinct periods, each of which is marked by an everlasting covenant. The primeval period is marked by the covenant with Noah in Gen. 9, the ancestral period is marked by the covenant with Abraham in Gen. 17, and the Mosaic period is marked by the Sinai covenant (see Exod. 31:12-17 for Sinai as a perpetual covenant). For the Priestly writers, worship is the central experience, and within that framework the presence of God within the sanctuary is of utmost importance. The sanctuary is a microcosm of the cosmos, which is why the details concerning the building of the tabernacle at the end of Exodus are so important (Exod. 35-40). God is present with the people by tabernacling with them—that is, being present along the journey with them in a kind of movable tent. The people are identified as a worshiping community; that is the core of their identity. They are called the !eda, the congregation that worships Yahweh.
The Priestly writers ground worship in the structures of creation as a whole; thus, each of the many details of the tabernacle is sacred and is an outward and visible sign of the invisible presence of God. It is a sacramental vision of worship that may appear to be in some tension with idolatry but is always carefully nonrepresentational. The sacred details of the tabernacle mediate the presence of God and make it possible for God to be present with the people in a way that maintains the necessary boundaries between the holy, the common, and the unholy. When the boundaries between these categories are inappropriately transgressed, God’s continued presence with the community is jeopardized, and with it the welfare of the community is endangered.
In the Priestly worldview, a distinct order reigns, and when certain things (e.g., food, bodily fluids) cross boundaries without due ritual, the order of the world itself is disturbed. This attention to order helps to explain the regulations pertaining to food, sex, menstrual blood, and so forth. In Gen. 1, for example, the text records that God made the sky and things that fly in the sky, the sea and things that swim in the sea, and the land and things that crawl on the land. These things are separated from one another in the order of creation itself, and so, in the Priestly view, they should remain separate. But many things found in creation pose challenges to the Priestly worldview. Consider a lobster: it lives in the sea, but it does not look like a fish; it does not have fins and scales (indeed it looks more like a giant bug that should live on the land) (see Lev. 11:9-12). In the Priestly worldview, lobster and other shellfish break the boundaries of the “natural” order and therefore are defiling to eat. Likewise, wearing garments made of two different fabrics breaks boundaries and invites chaos (Lev. 19:19). So also with human sexuality: in the Priestly worldview, there are men and women, and all are assumed to be heterosexual (the priests did not imagine anyone being created “homosexual”), and so all sexual activity should be heterosexual; to do otherwise crosses boundaries and invites chaos (Lev. 18:22) (though the priests only address male-to-male homosexual acts; lesbian activity does not seem to be in view, though women having sex with animals is a concern [Lev. 18:23]). In working with the Priestly material ethically, it is important not to extract a topic (e.g., food, sex, clothing) from its Priestly context in order to establish an ethical norm for our own time. Rather, it is worth considering how to engage the Priestly writers in a way that respects the distance between this ancient worldview and the present but still seeks points of connection with integrity.
The world envisioned in Leviticus is an orderly world, created and shaped by God’s purposes; a ritual world, in which creation itself is established, sustained, and restored through liturgies of worship (i.e., worship in the sanctuary keeps chaos at bay); a relational world, wherein God invites humanity to share in responsibility for sustaining and restoring the divine purposes for the world. A crucial question for ethics is this: how are human beings invited to participate in God’s purposes for the world? As shown by Jacob Milgrom, a scholar of the Priestly material who has drawn attention to its rich potential as a resource for ethical reflection, the people’s continuing participation in the sanctuary’s cultic worship plays a vital role in keeping the forces of chaos at bay. Cultic ritual keeps the sanctuary clean, and the whole people are part of this effort. The specific role of the priests is to organize and officiate in worship, and also to teach the Torah to the people so they will know how to avoid sin, but it is the people who recognize when they have sinned and who bring their offerings to the sanctuary on the proper occasion.
The assumption is that God’s world is subject to sin and disorder. Yet when human beings commit certain kinds of sins, it is not the sinner who becomes unclean, but rather the sanctuary itself is defiled: pollution, like an invisible, airborne miasma, adheres to the edifice. Milgrom likens this process to Oscar Wilde’s story The Picture of Dorian Gray, in which the main character’s sins adhere not to the man himself but instead to his hidden portrait. So the Israelite sanctuary is akin to the painting in the attic that is deteriorating hideously on account of the sins of the man below, who bears no outward sign of sin. The entire sanctuary, of course, is holy, but it is also increasingly holy as one approaches the most holy place, the inner sanctum where God is understood to be most present (“the holy of holies”). If what is holy is defiled by impurity, and if that builds up long enough, God will abandon the sanctuary, and so the people, and so the whole world. And if God abandons the sanctuary, the people, and the world, chaos will break in and overwhelm the whole world. Thus, maintaining category distinctions is crucial to maintaining order, keeping chaos at bay, and so keeping God with the people. If the sanctuary becomes too polluted with this miasma produced by sin, God will abandon it, with the resulting breach in the community’s life with God.
The consequences of such a failure, the failure to keep the sanctuary relatively free of pollution, are catastrophic for the world. So the Priestly worldview believes that Israel is performing a service on behalf of the world (here one might recall the promise to Abraham in Gen. 12 that through his descendants all the families of the earth would be blessed). The entire community, not just the priests, must participate in keeping the sanctuary as pollution-free as possible; the life of the community depends on the extent to which this responsibility is shared. When they sin, the people must bring their gifts to the priest at the sanctuary, and through their sacrifice the sanctuary can be adequately cleansed of the miasma, and the community will thrive.
In order to see what Priestly ethics might look like with a specific text, consider the case of Lev. 4 and the problem of unintentional sins. Leviticus 4, like most of the book, is taken up with the problem of sin and its effects. Leviticus 1-3 deals with voluntary gifts brought to the sanctuary, whereas Lev. 4-5 prescribes mandatory gifts for the expiation of sin. These chapters are addressed to the entire people, not simply to the priests. In Lev. 4 the issue is unintentional sins, unwittingly committed. What can be done about them? The chapter moves through these on a case-by-case basis: when a priest unknowingly sins (4:3-12), a certain sacrifice is prescribed (bull); when the whole congregation unknowingly sins (4:13-21), there is another sacrifice (bull, but with elders involved); and so on, until, at the end of the list, bringing up the rear, is the ordinary person who sins unknowingly (4:27-31). This case, the ordinary person who sins unknowingly, is of particular interest for ethics.
As noted above, sin is not about what it does to the individual; it is the sanctuary that requires attention. The blood of the sacrifice is the ritual detergent, cleansing the altar. Forgiveness is a byproduct of the sinner’s effort to address sin, but the sinner’s forgiveness is not of primary importance. The sinner brings a gift to the priest in order to repair the relationship with God and to help the community to prosper. So in Leviticus, sin is not individual in the first instance; it is about the health of the life of the community, about whether the community as a whole will thrive. The sinner is forgiven for the sin, but the need for forgiveness arises from the effect of the sin on the sanctuary, not from impurity of the self. This focus on the welfare of the community and the ethical import of unintentional sins led Milgrom to this comment about the purification offering of Lev. 4: “If only this ritual were fully understood and implemented, it could transform the world” (Leviticus: A Book of Ritual and Ethics, 33).
See also Clean and Unclean; Ezekiel; Holiness Code; Leviticus; Old Testament Ethics
Bibliography
Balentine, S. The Torah’s Vision of Worship. OBT. Fortress, 1999; Milgrom, J. Leviticus 1—16. AB 3. Doubleday, 1991, 253—63; idem. Leviticus: A Book of Ritual and Ethics. CC. Fortress, 2004, 8—16, 30—33.
Jacqueline E. Lapsley
Prisons (also called penitentiaries, penal institutions, and adult correctional facilities) are state or federal facilities of confinement for convicted criminals, especially felons. In contrast to prisons, jails (also called jailhouses and lockups) are places where individuals awaiting trial, or going through the process of trial, or convicted of misdemeanor offenses are confined. Jails sometimes serve as places of provisional imprisonment post trial.
Prisons and Christian Social Ethics Today more than 2.3 million persons occupy US prisons and jails, which are supervised by a variety of federal, state, and local jurisdictions. This number represents the highest per capita incarceration rate in the country’s history. Writing for the National Criminal Justice Commission, Steven Donziger reported, “Since 1980, the United States has engaged in the largest and most frenetic correctional buildup of any country in the history of the world” (Donziger 31). Indeed, with just 6 percent of the world’s population, the United States now holds 25 percent of its prisoners at a cost of about $60 billion per year.
The basic reasons for the increase in the number of US residents being imprisoned appear to be (at least) five: (1) the development of legislation (since the 1970s) requiring mandatory minimum sentencing as a cornerstone of corrections public policy; (2) the nationwide declaration of a “war on crime,” specifically the “war on drugs,” since the 1980s; (3) the economic profit generated by increased imprisonment; (4) an ever-increasing social policy commitment to incarceration as a tool of social maintenance and control; and (5) new immigration policies since the mid-1990s that target specific nationalities (e.g., Arabs, Haitians, Jamaicans, Cubans, and Mexicans) while emphasizing enforcement and detention over individualized justice, personal transformation, and social services (Miller). Taken as a whole, these developments represent interrelated dimensions of a “prison industrial complex”—that is, a set of bureaucratic, economic, political, and media-driven interests that encourage increased spending on incarceration.
For over three decades now a social policy that some describe as “mass imprisonment,” which issues in a variety of “collateral” and/or “invisible” consequences, has significantly transformed the nation’s family and community dynamics (Mauer and Chesney-Lind 1-2). The increased scale of incarceration has an impact that extends far beyond individual prisoners and their families, including the exacerbation of racial divisions, and economic and social risk for the most vulnerable of the nation’s residents (children, the poor, the mentally ill, the drug addicted). Incarceration on such a large scale also poses fundamental questions of justice/fairness and citizenship in a democratic society.
Before and since the tragic events of 9/11, the United States has been commonly and widely cited by various international human rights organizations for the torturing and other inhumane treatment of prisoners. Amnesty International has reported that the United States is one of just four nations performing 97 percent of the world’s state-sponsored executions, the other three nations being China, Iran, and Vietnam.
Attending to Scripture and Theological Ethics
Critical sources for much Christian contemplation and practice around prisons and prison reform lie in Scripture and theological ethics. These sources guide Christian discernment concerning the ultimate restorative and transformative relationships toward which the Christian narrative aims.
Stanley Hauerwas has rightly suggested that “ontological intimacy” refers to the Christian understanding that literally nothing exists outside God, since God makes the entirety of the finite realm ex nihilo, through an act of purest and gentlest generosity. Therefore, all of creation should be understood as participating in the power of God’s being. This means that all that is related through bonds of ontological intimacy should aim to exist in communion because all that is rooted in a more primordial communion with God as modeled in history by God self-revealed in Jesus Christ (Hauerwas 111-12). Paul Tillich might have expressed the theological drive of ontological intimacy as an “ontology of love,” which essentially drives humanity toward “the reunion of the separated” (Tillich 57). Such an intimacy speaks of humanity’s primordial interconnectedness.
Clues about what such an intimacy entails for Christian praxis in the context of prisons and prison reform can be discerned in God’s selfunveiling as the lowly born, tortured, spat upon, beaten, and crucified Jesus Christ of Nazareth. These sufferings were not ends in themselves; they were misery-filled consequences of Jesus’ living toward the restorative/transformative end of ontological intimacy. The way of this humiliated Jesus has been demonstrated for us in a gospel tradition that aims at the restoration of love in human relationships, as expressed in notions of grace-soaked penance, forgiveness, and reconciliation. The grace modeled for Christians in the Jesus tradition is a profound love and concern for others that speaks of our primal interrelatedness, our radical mutuality for the cause of liberation from the wages of what many Christians know as “sin.” The birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus challenge Christians to consider the implications of ontological intimacy in the formation of Christian community in relation to those whom societal authorities condemn as criminals. As Christians contemplate their individual and collective relationships with society’s prisons and prison reform, they ought not neglect noting the companionship of Jesus in close proximity to the condemned, as well as the important companionship and comfort offered to the human Jesus as he suffered the same abuse, the same pain, and the same death throes as the criminals who hung from crosses with him (Barth 78): “They crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left” (Luke 23:33). On a cross, and today in Holy Communion, God upsets the logic and power of violent retribution by forgiving humanity for its sin, including humanity’s own grand execution of God’s Son, Jesus Christ. Christians must contemplate the implications of such a narrative for Christian thinking about prisons and prison reform.
Prison Reform
Central to Christian theological perspectives on prison reform is the requirement of discerning the difference that Jesus makes for Christian participation in society’s understanding and meting
out of punishment. Christians must continually struggle with how best to embrace the praxis of criminal justice as an expression of a politics of better hope for society. This better hope should connect the Christian worship of God to a radically reconfigured reality of social justice ushered into human history by God’s self-unveiled love in the person of Jesus Christ. Hauerwas has rightly suggested that although society does not share the Christian faith and therefore cannot be expected to live as Christians ought to live, this in no way means that a sectarian demarcation should be established indicating what Christians cannot ask of the societies in which they reside. Christians should actively model the countercultural politics of Jesus as a contribution to the societies in which they live. This means that Christians contemplating prisons and prison reform must continuously affirm the radical nature of Christian penance, forgiveness, and reconciliation in the service of humanity’s primordial communion of interrelatedness with God and with one another, including those “others” viewed as the criminals among us. Christian forgiveness and reconciliation must be viewed as more primary than punishment.
Christian efforts toward prison reform must consider scriptural, theological, and moral foundations grounded in penance, forgiveness, and reconciliation. These foundations are displayed in distinctive, virtue-inspired principles and practices (e.g., faith, hope, love, patience, courage) that restore and transform society for the better. Broadly conceived, virtue-inspired principles and practices that restore and transform may include restorative justice efforts as well as various (preventative) systemic alternatives to large-scale imprisonment and harsher punishments.
“Restorative justice” is a phrase that encompasses a variety of programs and practices based on an “alternative framework for thinking about wrongdoing” (Zehr 5). Restorative justice is community-based and deals with offenders through a victim-oriented process of restoration (see, e.g., Zehr 24). Restorative approaches to criminal justice, in opposition to retributive frameworks, reject the idea that the infliction of pain will vindicate wrongdoing. While it is not unusual for victims (or their surrogates) and offenders to meet at some point during a process of restorative justice, forgiveness and reconciliation are not primary goals. Nonetheless, the context does provide a setting where some degree of either or both might occur. It should be noted that its practitioners do not necessarily view restorative justice as an alternative to the state’s normal criminal justice process. In some felony cases (e.g., rape, murder, domestic violence) the framework may prove less useful or desirable, although sometimes the usefulness of restorative justice has been apparent in such cases. At base, restorative justice as an alternative lens through which Christians might engage prison reform expresses values that comport to a better Christian vision for society. Such values include a respect for all persons, enemies included. It is an approach to justice that acknowledges both the individuality and radical interconnectedness of all persons, for better or for worse.
Today activists such as Christian Parenti, Angela Y. Davis, and Christian ethicist T. Richard Snyder (alongside scores of other US residents, Christian and non-Christian alike) offer possible ways forward in providing concrete alternatives to current criminal justice practices in the United States. Parenti recommends, in regard to criminal justice, “less.” Specifically, he recommends “less policing, less incarceration, shorter sentences, less surveillance, fewer laws governing individual behaviors, and less obsessive discussion of every lurid crime, less prohibition, and less puritanical concern with ‘freaks’ and ‘deviants’ ” (Parenti 242). Davis argues for “abolitionist alternatives” to prisons. Abolitionist alternatives to prisons constitute a foreshadowing of the better society that people of goodwill hope to build. Davis contends that hope for the future of justice-making requires an abolitionist approach that would eventually “remove the prison from the social and ideological landscape of our society.” Davis’s abolitionist perspective insists that society not search for prisonlike substitutes for the prison, “such as house arrest safeguarded by electronic surveillance bracelets.” Rather, she invites society to imagine a constellational continuum of alternatives to imprisonment—for example, the “demilitarization of education at all levels, a health system that provides free physical and mental care to all, and a justice system based on reparation and reconciliation rather than retribution and vengeance” (Davis 107). Finally, Snyder’s contribution to prison reform is his suggestion that some focus be placed on the proposition that society itself is a significant cause of crime through its creation and advocacy of the very conditions that make crime possible. Snyder asserts, “Certainly the one who has committed a criminal act is in need of forgiveness from the victim and the larger society that has been harmed. But so too is the society in need of forgiveness for having created and permitted crime-generative communities to exist” (Snyder 110-11). If Snyder is correct, Christians must pay attention to the distinction between the habilitation of prisoners and the rehabilitation of offenders: “If the lack of habilitation is a reality, then those responsible for this condition are as much in need of forgiveness as is the perpetrator of any specific crime” (Snyder 111).
As Christians continue to reflect upon where they stand on deeply difficult and complex issues surrounding criminal justice, the challenge is this: whatever the reform-minded efforts may have brought to the issue of prison and prison reform, it is scripturally, theologically, and morally imperative that Christians exemplify their witness by remembering themselves to be a living testimony to the difference that Jesus’ birth, life, death, and resurrection make in the society and world.
See also Capital Punishment; Crime and Criminal Justice; Forgiveness; Justice, Restorative; Law, Civil and Criminal; Reconciliation; Reparation; Restitution
Bibliography
Barth, K. “The Criminals with Him.” Pages 75-84 in Deliverance to the Captives: Sermons and Prayers by Karl Barth. Harper, 1961; Davis, A. Are Prisons Obsolete? Seven Stories Press, 2003; Donziger, S., ed. The Real War on Crime: The Report of the National Criminal Justice Commission. HarperPerennial, 1996; Hauerwas, S. A Better Hope: Resources for a Church Confronting Capitalism, Democracy, and Postmodernity. Brazos, 2000; Logan, J. Good Punishment? Christian Moral Practice and U.S. Imprisonment. Eerdmans, 2008; Mauer, M., and M. Chesney-Lind, eds. Invisible Punishment: The Collateral Consequences of Mass Imprisonment. New Press, 2002; Miller, T. “The Impact of Mass Incarceration on Immigration Policy.” Pages 217-18 in Invisible Punishment: The Collateral Consequences of Mass Imprisonment, ed. M. Mauer and M. Chesney-Lind. New Press, 2002; Parenti, C. Lockdown America: Police and Prisons in the Age of Crisis. Verso, 1999; Snyder, T. The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Punishment. Eerd-mans, 2001; Tillich, P Love, Power, and Justice: Ontological Analyses and Ethical Applications. Oxford University Press, 1954; Zehr, H. The Little Book of Restorative Justice. Good Books, 2002.
James Samuel Logan
Many ancient Near Eastern wars involved the capture of prisoners, and the OT refers to this practice on many occasions, especially in conjunction with the Babylonian exile (frequently using cognates of the root sbh, “take captive”). There are significant variations on what captives suffered. On some occasions, prisoners of war were killed (2 Chr. 25:12; cf. Amos 9:4) or faced life-threatening conditions (Neh. 1:2-3). Texts such as 2 Chr. 28:15 suggest that prisoners of war were deprived of food, clothing, and drink (cf. Isa. 20:4). Frequently, they were forced into labor (e.g., Judg. 16:21). To prevent escape, captors blinded, imprisoned, enchained, and fettered prisoners (e.g., Isa. 52:2; Jer. 52:11; Nah. 3:10). Forced migrations were also considered a form of imprisonment (e.g., Isa. 42:22; 61:1). Becoming a prisoner of war frequently entailed profound emotional trauma (Ps. 137:1-3; Isa. 20:4; Jer. 13:17; 22:22; 30:10; Ezek. 16:52-53) and placement among the lowest social strata (cf. Exod. 12:29). Yet, some prisoners of war were shown compassion by their captors (1 Kgs. 8:46-50; 2 Chr. 30:9; Ps. 106:46). A number were even allowed a degree of self-autonomy (cf. Jer. 29:4-7). In some cases, prisoners were freed or permitted to return home at a later time, particularly when battles had ended (2 Kgs. 25:27-29; Ezra 3:8; 8:35; Neh. 8:17; cf. Isa. 49:25; Jer. 29:14; 41:14; 46:27; 52:31-33).
The NT contains few references to those taken captive in war. Luke 21:24 and Rev. 13:10 mention captives alongside those killed by the sword, much like a variety of passages in the OT (e.g., Ezra 9:7; Jer. 15:2; 43:11; Ezek. 30:17; Dan. 11:33; Amos 4:10).
Ethically, several texts are of key importance. In line with Deuteronomistic theology, many passages describe war and captivity as the result of sinfulness (e.g., Deut. 28:41; 2 Chr. 6:36; Ezra 9:7; Jer. 20:6; Lam. 1:5, 18). Numerous texts also describe God as ultimately responsible for freeing individuals from captivity (e.g., Jer. 29:14).
Other texts condemn making individuals into prisoners of war (e.g., 2 Chr. 28:8-15; Jer. 30:16), anticipating divine judgment for those who do so. Meanwhile, Deut. 21:10-14 permits the capture of female prisoners of war, but it appears to deter their mistreatment.
Finally, although the herem texts are ethically problematic (i.e., advocating the annihilation of all the inhabitants of an opposing city or tribe [e.g., Deut. 20:17]), these texts can be interpreted as a way to counteract those who would go to war simply for personal gain, such as the acquisition of forced labor provided by prisoners of war.
One of the most significant texts for ethics today is the oracles of Amos against the nations (1:3-2:3), which have resonances with the Geneva Conventions, condemning a variety of inhumane actions that are, at least by modern standards, war crimes. Among the crimes Amos denounces is the capture and enslavement of others through war (1:6-7). Although the Bible is hardly monolithic, it contains voices that condemn crimes against humanity, including the mistreatment and imprisonment of individuals in times of war.
See also Ban, The; Conquest; Deuteronomistic History; Exile; Slavery; War
Bibliography
Barton, J. “Amos’s Oracles against the Nations: A Study of Amos 1:3-2:5.” Pages 77-129 in Understanding Old Testament Ethics: Approaches and Explorations. Westminster John Knox, 2003; Elman, P. “Deuteronomy 21:10-14: The Beautiful Captive Woman.” Women in Judaism 1, no. 1 (1997): http://wjudaism.library.utoronto.ca/index.php/w judaism/article/viewArticle/166; Gelb, I. “Prisoners of War in Early Mesopotamia.” JNES 32 (1973): 70-98; Goodnick, B. “She Shall Mourn.” JBQ 32 (2004): 198-201; Schlimm, M. “Teaching the Hebrew Bible amid the Current Human Rights Crisis: The Pedagogical Opportunities Presented by
Amos 1:3-2:3.” SBL Forum 4, no. 1 (2006): http://www .sbl-site.org/publications/article.aspx?articleId=478; Van der Toorn, K. “Judges XVI 21 in the Light of the Akkadian Sources.” VT 26 (1986): 248-53.
Matthew R. Schlimm
Privacy involves the state of being alone, free from the purview or intrusion of others. Respect for privacy is a fairly recent topic in philosophical discourse. Only after the rise of industrialism and the expansion of technology in the late nineteenth century did American jurists Thomas Cooley and Louis Brandeis famously argue for legal recognition of a right to privacy, which they defined as the “right to be let alone.”
Recent technologies and policies have raised privacy concerns: “full body scan” airport security devices; electronic surveillance of telephone, internet, and other communications to fight terrorism; wiretaps and infrared, X-ray, and video security cameras to fight crime; and medical, academic, and financial record-keeping and tracking in vast bureaucratic systems. The US political controversies over the legality of contraception, abortion, sodomy, and gay marriage followed in the wake of the Supreme Court’s 1965 determination that a “right to privacy” exists within the Constitution. Justice William Douglas’s landmark majority opinion in Griswold v. Connecticut located this right in “penumbras” emanating from specific guarantees of the Bill of Rights that “give them life and substance.”
The Bible is a poor resource for the modern concept of privacy. Scripture emphasizes that various interactions were held “in private” or “privately” These include Joseph weeping upon meeting his brother Benjamin in a private room (Gen. 43:30), Saul’s command that his servants communicate to David in private (1 Sam. 18:22), multiple private discussions between Jesus and his followers (Matt. 17:19; 24:3; Mark 4:34; 7:33; 9:28; 13:3; Luke 9:10; 10:23; John 11:28), and Paul’s meeting with the Jerusalem church leaders (Gal. 2:2). These passages reflect a respect for human dignity in which the parties communicate freely in mutual trust.
Jesus also encouraged his followers to both pray and do good deeds in private (Matt. 6:3-6). An implication of his commands is that relative to an omniscient God, nothing is private. Any attempt, however, to construct a theory of privacy based on these and other biblical texts would be forced.
Advances in those technologies that expand the possibilities of mass surveillance can present
challenges to the right to privacy. The ancient distinction between the public sphere and the private household chronicled by Hannah Arendt is at some risk of disappearing.
James Rule observes that the central ethical issue in the extension of surveillance is “the tension between the essentially utilitarian logic of efficiency with the Kantian logic of rights” (27). He posits that “the only limits to endless erosion of privacy are those created by human intervention—that is, by laws and policies that ‘just say no’ to endless extension of institutional surveillance” (xv). The challenge for biblical ethicists is to formulate arguments to counter the constant pressures to encroach on privacy.
See also Confidentiality; Individualism; Information Technology; Rights
Bibliography
Arendt, H. The Human Condition. University of Chicago Press, 1958; Nissenbaum, H. Privacy in Context: Technology, Policy, and the Integrity of Social Life. Stanford Law Books, 2010; Rossler, B., ed. Privacies: Philosophical Evaluations. Stanford University Press, 2004; Rule, J. Privacy in Peril: How We Are Sacrificing a Fundamental Right in Exchange for Security and Convenience. Oxford University Press, 2007; Warren, S., and L. Brandeis. “The Right to Privacy.” Harvard Law Review 4 (1890): 194—200; Westin, A. Privacy and Freedom. Atheneum, 1967.
Lawrence M. Stratton
According to the first creation story in Genesis, God created humankind in his image, “male and female he created them” (Gen. 1:27), linking human sexual differentiation to our reflection of God. Because the sexual union of man and woman can generate new life, procreation partakes in God’s creative profligacy. Moreover, biological offspring literally instantiate the Christian conception of marriage as a union in which man and woman are made one flesh (Gen. 2:24; Matt. 19:5-6). God told the first humans, “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it” (Gen. 1:28). Accordingly, procreation is a form of faithful service to God.
However, not all Christians are called to procreate; there are “eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom” (Matt. 19:12). While Scripture generally regards fertility as a blessing and involuntary childlessness as a curse (see Ryan), Eugene Rogers argues that childless Christian couples can witness to the fact that resurrection, not procreation, ensures the survival of the human species.
Scripture includes stories of procreation under uncommon or socially undesirable circumstances.
Sarah, for example, conceived in her old age (Gen. 17:15-21; 18:1-15; 21:1-7), and Mary became pregnant while betrothed to a man who was not the biological father of her child (Matt. 1:18-25; Luke 1:26-38). Key scriptural stories of procreation reveal God’s providential governance of history. The genealogies of Jesus in Matthew (1:1-17) and Luke (3:23-28) illustrate as much. Matthew’s genealogy notably includes women with complex social or moral status who nevertheless help to prepare the way for the Lord. They point to the power of grace to make all things work for our good.
A number of moral questions surround procreation. What circumstances make morally ideal conditions for procreation? Under what conditions is it morally acceptable, even advisable, to limit or otherwise regulate births or to promote conception through medical and technological interventions? Related ethical issues include the utilization of medical resources for assisted reproduction and to care for significantly premature infants, the donation or sale of gametes and gestational labor, as well as genetic diagnosis of and experimentation on embryos and fetuses.
The Scriptures assume and generally endorse a procreative context of heterosexual marital coitus. Christian ethicists disagree regarding the moral character of reproductive ventures that depart from this context. Historically, Christian tradition viewed the procreative potential of human sexuality as a given feature of God’s creative order that morally constrains our freedom regarding procreation. Some early Christian thinkers claimed that procreation provides moral justification for intercourse. Augustine believed that original sin was transmitted through the concupiscence that inevitably accompanied intercourse. Today the conviction “in sin my mother conceived me” (Ps. 51:5 NASB) is more likely rendered in terms of the social reproduction of selfhood.
Christian thinkers accorded increasing importance to the unitive value of sexual relations. Some ethicists argue the “procreationism” of traditional Christian sexual ethics devalues the unitive dimension of sex and casts nonprocreative (infertile, same-sex, postmenopausal) sexual relations as inferior. Christine Gudorf contends that procreationism encourages us to think of penile-vaginal penetration as the only “real” sex act and all other forms of sexual activity as foreplay or perversion. Official Catholic moral teaching holds that every genital sexual act must refrain from deliberately separating the procreative potential and unitive expression of sex. Ethicists such as Margaret Farley and James Nelson argue that sexual relations ought generally to be fruitful, but not every genital sexual encounter needs to be open to the possibility of generating new life; moreover, sexual relations that are nonprocreative can be fruitful in other ways. They and others find theological, ethical support for nontraditional forms of procreation and family formation in salvation history, particularly God’s hospitality to Israel, Jesus’ inauguration of a new order that transvalues human kinship, and Christian liberty under this new order. Those who affirm such values but worry about tendencies to regard procreation and sexual relations as contingently related through human preferences rather than linked in a divinely created order emphasize the moral weight of human embodiment.
See also Birth Control; Childlessness; Children; Conception; Family; Reproductive Technologies
Bibliography
Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. Donum Vitae: Instruction on Respect for Human Life in Its Origin and on the Dignity of Procreation. Catholic Truth Society, 1987; Farley, M. Just Love: A Framework for Christian Sexual Ethics. Continuum, 2006. Gudorf, C. Body, Sex, and Pleasure: Reconstructing Christian Sexual Ethics. Pilgrim Press, 1995. Nelson, J. Embodiment: An Approach to Christian Sexuality and Christian Theology. Augsburg, 1978; Rogers, E., Jr. Sexuality and the Christian Body: Their Way into the Triune God. Blackwell, 1999; Ryan, M. Ethics and Economics of Assisted Reproduction: The Cost of Longing. Georgetown University Press, 2003.
Darlene Fozard Weaver Profanity See Speech Ethics
Professional ethics involves moral reflection on the activities of professions, including the principles, codes of ethics, and other guidelines by which professional guilds guide their members. These codes and principles can be used to prepare and evaluate those wishing to enter the profession, to monitor those already within it, and, in cases of violations of the principles or codes, to discipline offenders or even remove them from the profession.
Historically, the professions were limited to attorneys, physicians, and clergy. Over time, other occupations (e.g., engineering, nursing, counseling) took on both the label “profession” and a predictable array of characteristics often shared in common by professional occupations, including concerns about ethics.
Professionals have specialized knowledge and skills particular to the activities of the profession. Physicians, for example, have specialized medical knowledge and skills necessary to care for patients. Professionals normally engage in activities for the common good. Professions are characterized, in part, by their moral complexity; the particular activities of the professional bring with them particular moral questions that call for moral deliberation and discernment.
Professionals are often described as bearing great responsibility, in part because of the serious and even dangerous consequences if they fail to carry out their professional activities properly (e.g., physicians bear responsibility for people’s health, and attorneys for their legal rights). In part because of the gravity of these responsibilities, professionals normally undergo a long period of training (including formal education and often residency programs or internships) as well as a formal examination or evaluation. At the completion of this period of training and examination professionals often are formally approved or licensed by the professional guild. In some disciplines (e.g., law, medicine, ministry), new professionals take an oath or formally enter into a covenant. For example, attorneys are sworn in by a judge; pastors are ordained; many physicians and nurses take an oath.
The professional guild sets standards not only to train those wishing to enter the profession but also to monitor, guide, and hold accountable those already in the profession. To this end, professional organizations often develop guidelines and codes of ethics and professional conduct that are directed at the activities of the profession and that delineate formal processes for disciplining those who fail to meet the standards.
Throughout this process as members are trained, monitored, and disciplined by their guilds, ethics is central. Many professions now require ethics courses and examinations as a part of their training period as well as continuing education in ethics. For example, most law schools now require courses in professional responsibility and ethics. Almost all states require aspiring attorneys to pass an examination on professional responsibility and ethics either as a part of the bar exam or in a separate national exam based on the American Bar Association’s codes concerning professional and judicial conduct. The oath required of attorneys includes promises with ethical import. Moreover, attorneys in most states are required to take regular continuing education courses in the field of ethics throughout their careers.
There is often a link between a profession and the state. For example, US physicians must be licensed by their states after completing certain educational requirements and passing a licensing exam. Many other healthcare workers, including mental health professionals, must be licensed by the state before they are allowed to practice. The role of the state in the guilds is not without controversy. For example, what is the proper role for public officials, who ordinarily have no medical training, in policing medical guilds whose members have highly specialized training? For this reason, state licensing normally follows certification by a professional association.
Ethical issues are often at the center of the formal guidelines and codes of many professions. For example, physicians, attorneys, and counselors are enjoined to honor confidentiality. Attorneys must be zealous advocates for their clients (within the limits of the law), even when they have moral qualms about their clients’ activities. Journalists are directed to protect the names of confidential sources. Physicians must respect the autonomy of their patients. In many professions, practitioners are enjoined to keep strict professional boundaries and refrain from sexual activity with clients.
The ethical rules and principles of professional codes are ordinarily related to the particular activities of that profession. If a given principle is not followed, then the activities of the profession are in some way hindered. For example, professional guilds often insist that their members maintain confidentiality not simply because it is wrong to break someone’s trust but also because confidentiality is necessary for the proper functioning of their particular profession. For example, if clients think that their attorneys might disregard confidentiality, they could be discouraged from giving their attorneys all the information necessary to defend them. The guild, the interests of its clients, and even the entire judicial system could suffer.
In another example, journalists do not ordinarily reveal the names of anonymous sources because it undermines the field of journalism; if sources did not believe that agreements of anonymity would be honored, they would be less likely to reveal information. This principle stands at the heart of journalism. Even when ordered by courts to reveal the names of sources, many journalists refuse because of the professional standards of their fields, standards that are included in the codes of ethics of organizations such as the United States Society of Professional Journalists.
These rules sometimes admit exceptions and limits. For example, many states and some professional organizations require certain professionals to break confidentiality in cases of suspected child abuse and neglect. Moreover, although attorneys are to be zealous advocates for their clients, they are held to the limits of the law and certain standards of the court. In these cases both the rules and their exceptions are driven by ethical concerns.
Many of these examples deal with the relationships between professionals and their clients. Professional ethics codes and guidelines also address the relationships between professionals and colleagues. For example, many clergy codes of ethics recommend or even require that pastors not return to their previous churches to offer pastoral services such as weddings and funerals unless invited by the current pastor. If new pastors do not have the opportunity to marry and bury the people in their congregations, their work as pastors will be diminished and churches and their members will suffer. Professional ethics can also be addressed to the responsibilities that professionals have to their guilds, to the particular institutions in which they work, to particular areas of public life (e.g., attorneys to the judicial system and doctors to healthcare), and to the larger public good.
Professional guilds and professional ethics have been the subject of much criticism (Campbell; Kultgen; Reeck). Critics have charged, for example, that guilds give so much weight to the relationships between professionals and their clients, their colleagues, and the institutions paying their salaries that they neglect to address sufficiently their responsibilities to the larger society and the public good. Critics have called for greater realism about professional guilds, asking whether they function as institutions for the public good or, primarily, for the good of a self-interested elite. By extension, are professional ethics, including the ethical codes and guidelines of various professional organizations, directed more toward fostering moral activity for the common good or protecting the guild?
Professional guilds and their codes have also been criticized for being conservative by nature. As professional guilds have exercised control over who can become members and can practice the profession, have they at times been guilty of racism, sexism, and classism? For example, as the medical profession began requiring formal training for physicians, many women were no longer able to practice. Moreover, the American Medical Association originally prohibited women from membership.
Similarly, it could be argued that professional guilds are elitist, setting up two tiers of occupations: professional and nonprofessional. This could be a particularly troubling concern for Christian professionals, particularly but not exclusively Protestants. If a Christian group has historically rejected a two-tiered model with those professing religious vocations somehow standing above those in other occupations, then it is awkward to turn around and affirm another two-tiered system where professionals somehow stand above nonprofessionals.
Critics have also argued that professional guilds tend to be reactive. Many professional codes have been written or revised in the wake of scandals and lawsuits. It is common for professional associations to include attorneys in the writing and revising of codes and policies so that the guild and its officers can limit their legal liability. If an organization tends to shape itself and its policies in response to scandals and legal concerns, how are its mission and self-identity changed?
Further, guilds and their professional guidelines have tended to focus heavily on ethical rules and principles while neglecting other aspects of moral reflection. For example, professional ethics tends to give little attention to the moral virtues needed for particular professions and how those virtues are to be formed. Professional guilds often neglect teleological questions in ethics. What is the larger goal toward which the profession and its members are working? How do the activities promote that good? How might the guild form aspiring and established professionals toward the pursuit of that good?
These various concerns may be rooted in a final criticism of professional guilds and their moral discourse. The concept of the profession as well as many of the classic professions themselves emerged from the Christian church. As James Wind put it, “It may not be too much to say that for much of the history of the west, the church was the mother of the professions” (Wind 171). The word profession itself comes from the Latin prof-iteri, meaning “to confess,” and was associated with the profession or pledge that Christians took on entering a religious order. Many guilds previously drew on the language and worldview of Scripture and Christian theology. Over time, most professional guilds, with the exception of clergy, distanced themselves from the language, worldview, and cultural history from which the professions emerged, rendering them increasingly secularized.
This distancing or separation of professional guilds from religious language is understandable, given the tremendous religious and cultural diversity within the professions. At the same time, this move leaves the professional guilds with an oddly shallow moral discourse. Dennis Campbell has argued that the moral discourse of the professions is weakened without substantive theological underpinnings, and that Christian professionals should consider their religious traditions as sources for moral reflection on their professional lives. One could add that all professionals, not just Christian professionals, might benefit in their professional reflection from the wisdom of various religious traditions and frameworks, not just Christian ones.
Professionals who seek Jewish and Christian language to support their moral reflection as professionals could turn to many different biblical ideas. The language of covenant has often been used to reflect on professional ethics (Campbell; Reeck; Mount; May). The covenants throughout Scripture, particularly in Genesis and Exodus, form a resource for professionals. The mandate to seek justice and care for the poor, found throughout both the OT and the NT and in many other sacred texts, could provide an antidote to any tendency within the professions to become overly focused on the more narrow interests of the guild and its members. Moreover, biblical mandates to work on behalf of the poor might challenge professionals to reconsider their own goals and those of their professions. Others have turned to the concept of vocation or calling as a resource for professional ethics (Mount; Reeck). Christian and Jewish reflections on work would also be relevant to professional ethics. For example, the papal encyclical Laborem exercens (On Human Work) draws on the first chapters of Genesis to ground its claim that work is a central part of human life, and that as humans work they participate in God’s creative work in the world. Although Laborem exercens focuses not on the professions specifically but rather on work generally, these reflections on human nature and human participation in God’s work in the world could help provide grounding for moral reflection on the professions.
Of course, all of these biblical ideas—covenant, vocation, justice, and human work as participation in God’s work—are not limited to the professions. These concepts are just as fitting for a bricklayer as an engineer, for a homemaker as an attorney. All of these activities can be a participation in God’s work, all have value, all are important for the common good, all bear moral import, all can be a means to glorify God. When the professions are considered in light of a larger discussion of a Christian or Jewish theology of work, clear distinctions between the various professions and between professional and nonprofessional occupations fall away. As Christian and Jewish professionals turn to their own religious traditions as resources, they may find that their identity as professionals is overshadowed by their larger vocation as faithful people who seek to do God’s will in all parts of their lives, including their employment.
See also Business Ethics; Confidentiality; Covenant; Healthcare Ethics; Justice; Vocation; Work
Bibliography
Campbell, D. Doctors, Lawyers, Ministers: Christian Ethics in Professional Practice. Abingdon, 1982; John Paul II. On Human Work. United States Catholic Conference, 1981; Kultgen, J. Ethics and Professionalism. University of Pennsylvania Press, 1988; Lebacqz, K. Professional Ethics: Power and Paradox. Abingdon, 1985; May, W. The Physician’s Covenant: Images of the Healer in Medical Ethics. Westminster John Knox, 2000; Mount, E., Jr. Professional Ethics in Context: Institutions, Images, and Empathy. Westminster John Knox, 1990; Reeck, D. Ethics for the Professions: A Christian Perspective. Augsburg, 1982; Wind, J. “Ministry and Profession: The Paradoxical Relationship.” CurTM 11, no. 3 (1984): 168-75.
Rebekah Miles