The Natural Law & Ritual Laws

In his book The Body of Faith: God and the People of Israel, Michael Wyschogrod, a distinguished Jewish theologian, writes the following: “alongside this unusual moral sensitivity, the Bible is also quite amoral.” He is referring to God’s order to Joshua to destroy the inhabitants of Canaan (Judges 1). Wyschogrod writes in another book, Abraham’s Promise: Judaism and Jewish-Catholic Relations: “Do I really understand why God wants me not to murder? I know that he does not want me to do it and that should be enough.”

He might well have written: “I do not understand why God prohibits the eating of pork, for it is written in Genesis 1:31 that when God had completed creation, ‘He saw all that He had made, and it was very good.'” This apparent discrepancy makes more sense: Why should certain animals be declared impure? The answer is simple: Ritual laws need not be intelligible. But murder is an altogether different matter.

Those of us who are convinced that there is a natural moral law — that is, God’s whispering to the human heart — are bound to be surprised upon reading such sentiments coming from the pen of a most devoted Jew. Is it true, we are led to ask, that the immorality of murder cannot be known except by divine prohibition? Likewise, if divine revelation is necessary in order to know that certain actions are evil, are those who have not received it exonerated? Cain’s murder of his brother, Abel (whose “blood cries to heaven,” Gen. 4:10), took place long before the Ten Commandments were given to Moses on Mount Sinai (Exod. 20). The evil deeds of men at the time of Noah triggered God’s anger and brought about the flood (Gen. 6-7). Once again, no formal moral revelation had been given them.

This leads us to one of the most poignant episodes in the Old Testament: God ordered Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac (Gen. 22). Is this not powerful evidence in defense of Wyschogrod’s argument that the Bible is amoral?

This question is of immense importance because it touches upon one of the most crucial questions of human life: the nature of moral good and of moral evil. A colleague of mine, referring to this dramatic test imposed on Abraham’s faith, said to his class: “To hell with a God who commands a father to murder his son.” If God commands murder, is He not Himself a murderer? Can an “amoral” God truly be God?

In the sixth volume of his tome on ethics, Moralia (not yet available in English), Dietrich von Hildebrand devotes a chapter to a crucial question: Are all immoral acts immoral for the same reason? He mentions seven different acts that are intrinsically evil: rape, sexual perversions, idolatry, kidnapping, abuse and torture of children. (There are, alas, many more.) In no place, at no time, and under no circumstances is it conceivable that these acts should be permitted or deemed morally good.

Murder and theft are universally called immoral also, but for different reasons. This is why it is baffling that the talented Jewish author referred to above claims ignorance of the immorality of murder apart from God’s prohibition of the act. A man who steals appropriates the property of another: It does not belong to him, and he knows it. His act of thievery is clearly immoral. This is intelligible, and rather obvious. In the same vein, another person’s life does not belong to me; to take his life — i.e., to murder — is to take something to which I have no right. The immorality of this deed is also luminous. Only those affected by some sort of moral blindness (for whatever reason) will fail to perceive this natural moral truth. But the deficiency is theirs and not applicable to a luminous truth.

This brings us back to the question of God’s command to Abraham. God did not tell Abraham to sexually abuse his son; He told him to prove his love for His Creator by showing that as much as he loved his son — the son of promise — he loved God more. The word “murder” in this context is inadequate and misleading. The proper word for God’s command is “sacrifice.”

This leads us to the key truth, namely, that man, being a creature, is not the master of creation or of others. God is. God is the Giver of Life; He can take it back when He pleases. He is the Giver of All Gifts (Jas. 1:17); He can choose to take away what He has previously graciously given. This truth is memorialized by the timeless utterance of Job: “The Lord has given, the Lord has taken away. His holy name be glorified” (1:21). For this reason, when God ordered the annihilation of the Canaanites, He was not trespassing on His “rights” — an inadequate and inappropriate legal term when applied to God. The whole of creation is His. He is the King and Master of the Universe, and He disposes as He sees fit.

We have touched upon three sources of immorality. The first is the committing of acts that are intrinsically evil. A second is disobedience to the commands of legitimate authority. A third is trespassing upon others’ rights. In this third category, a distinction must be made between things that are “mine” and over which I may dispose, and things that are not mine and whose autonomy I must respect.

There is a fascinating ethical question inherent in the ambiguity of the word “mine.” I can call “mine” an object I have acquired through my own labor or have legitimately inherited — i.e., this is my coat. But the word “mine” can have a completely different connotation: “My plane is leaving at 3 PM” (someone else’s property I board for temporary transportation); “My husband” (the man to whom I have given myself in front of God “until death do us part”); “My boss” (the person I work for); “My country” (the place I was born and raised); “My faith” (my assent to God’s revelation); “My body” (the gift of life I received at the moment of my conception); “My child” (the helpless innocent life entrusted to me). Clearly, none of these examples fits the definition of an object I have acquired by my own labor or have inherited. The sense of personal possession in each case is quite obviously lacking. Nevertheless, we still apply the word “mine.”

It is this confusion of the alternate senses of the word “mine” that plagues the rhetoric of the “pro-choice” camp in their attempt to legitimize abortion: “My body, my choice”; “Keep your laws off my body”; “Keep your rosaries off my ovaries”; “Keep your theology off my biology”; etc. But is my body “mine” in the sense in which my coat is mine? Did I earn it? Is it truly my possession? More important, is the life in my womb really “mine,” something I can dispose of as I please?

It is true that the sexual embrace can lead to conception. But whether or not this occurs is beyond the control of the two people involved. There are thousands of couples who desperately want a child, but are unable to conceive. A massive “fertility industry” has arisen in response to their concerns.

Whenever a child is conceived, he is a gift to, and not the property of, the instrumental causes of his existence. Yes, he depends upon his mother for his continued existence in the womb, but he is not part of his mother’s body. From the very moment of his conception, he has his own individuality, his own DNA, and, most important, his own immortal soul.

Man cannot create (he procreates); but he can destroy. Man cannot “give” life (he “shares in the creative power of God,” Catechism #2367); but he can take it away. This grave moral evil is his metaphysical rebellion against God who alone is the Author of Life.

The words we use and the meanings we impute to them matter most gravely. One need not be in a pessimistic mood to realize that we live in a time when moral blindness (partial and total, and with varying degrees of willfulness) has reached epidemic proportions. The manipulation of language has aided its spread. Let us recall one of the great lessons of history: Some of the most powerful nations have disappeared from the face of the earth not because they were defeated militarily but because of their immorality, their decadence. Listen, all you who have ears to hear!