The purpose of your vote is your vote

Many Americans believe that probabilities of success of political candidates should weigh against their moral value. They vote for a popular candidate they admit is more evil than an unpopular candidate because they are concerned about how likely it will be that the unpopular one succeeds. It’s the truism of third party critics: “Don’t waste your vote.” I am close to someone who insisted vehemently that the Virginia ballot (which had at least five candidates listed, not to mention registered write-in candidates) had “only two candidates.” He meant that only two had a competitive probability of winning, and that such a probability should limit our choice.

The problem with this is that it views the outcome of the election as the purpose of our vote. Probabilities have the outcome in view. Rather, we must view our vote as the purpose of our vote.

According to the Doctrine of Double Effect, it is not permissible to more directly cause a lesser evil in order to less directly avoid a greater evil. The reason is that the bad that I cause by my action is more causally immediate than the good, and is therefore involved by definition as a means to the other outcome which I effect less directly (when I foresee both). I therefore “do evil that good may result,” which is always wrong. Contrary to popular idiom, the ends do not justify the means! Foreseeing both good and bad effects of an action, we may only do it if the good proceeds from our action at least as immediately as the bad. In terms of voting, this means we may only vote for a candidate if the good and bad effects of our vote are equally direct.

In the case of voting for an evil candidate in order to achieve as a good outcome the avoidance of another candidate’s success, the evil effect is our vote, and the good effect is an outcome of the election. So, when we vote, do we cause the outcome of an election as directly as we cause our vote? Not at all! We do not each cause the outcome of the election. Rather, we each directly, certainly, and completely cause our vote, and all of our votes contribute to the outcome as minuscule partial causes, fragments of probability that together equal the whole. Therefore, a vote that one admits is evil but intends for the avoidance of a worse electoral outcome causes the lesser evil (itself) directly, and avoids the greater evil (the outcome) only partially and indirectly. Such a vote is never permissible according to the Doctrine of Double Effect.

Instead of using my vote as an evil means to a good end, I must vote with my vote itself as its own moral end, because it is only my vote that I fully cause. I must make it the most moral vote in and of itself. In other words, I must not compromise my moral beliefs based on the predicted outcomes of the election or the popularity of candidates; rather I must vote as I would if I alone controlled the outcome of the election. That is what is binding on me as a moral agent with a voice in my democracy.

For what does it profit a man if he gains the oval office and forfeits his soul?

Conversation with a colleague continued (peasants and ghosts part 2)

After the previous letter, I received a great response, to which I wrote this additional, long letter. You’ll find, again, that I am on a Chesterton kick. This time I quoted him in my original letter!

_____________________________________________________

You asked, “First, supposing the farmer actually did see things he firmly believed were real and tangible but seemed outrageous to others, would this be evidence of an omnipotent omniscient being? If the vision were personal evidence of an omnipotent omniscient being, how would one then come to a conclusion that seeing this particular vision justifies that their vision stumps the previous, differing visions of everyone on earth (i.e. Buddhists visioning turtles as messengers of goodness and Shintoists having visions of Monkeys)?”

My story began with “Imagine for a moment that there once was a farmer who was contacted telepathically by aliens.” I’m basically saying “assume for the purposes of argument that an omniscient being did exist.” And furthermore, I am assuming that the revelation that this person received seemed to them to be entirely real. It’s not a question of whether someone seeing a vision is evidence to the whole world that his vision is true, and that everyone should take this evidence seriously. Of course not. What I am saying is simply this: if someone unequivocally rejects the man’s claim up front, he does so because it is not compatible with his world view—it’s nonsense because, to borrow from Oz, he doesn’t “believe in spooks.” We all assimilate new data into our paradigm of the world. He who believes in aliens might see an alien, but he who does not can only see a mirage. Like Ebenezer Scrooge, if he sees the ghost of Marley he will accuse it of being “a bit of bad cheese” or “a bad potato” that he ate. See what I mean? That’s why I’m interested in dialoging primarily about whether there is a God and what he is like, because that’s the wellspring.

You asked: “Would not knowing the causation of a disorder be a reason to pose a hypothesis that an omnipotent omniscient being was the cause of it?”

The question is, rather, would not knowing the causation of an experience be a reason to pose a hypothesis that a disorder was the cause of it? (The answer: not without ye old presupposition.)

You asked: “If an omnipotent omniscient being existed, how could people know for sure that the one they believe in is not one of the other thousands of false ones, and how do they know that this being expects certain behaviors of them?”

Well, you can never know for sure. There must be a leap of faith. But it should be a reasonable leap, with a running start of facts. The best worldview is the one that explains the human experience the best.

And yes, there are plenty of false deities, but that fact in itself does not make it less likely that any one is true, but rather more likely that at least one of them is true. You won’t find a Walmart knock-off purse in an African market, but you will find plenty of Gucci knock-offs. The more genuine the article, the more imitations will be made.

As for knowing that this being expects certain behaviors of mankind, that would be quite possible assuming this being existed as a real entity and communicated with us. If he/it exists and can communicate, then he can certainly communicate what he wants.

You asked, “Finally, could we both agree that it is much more plausible that a farmer might have seen a great number of deer on a hill because there is evidence that deer exist and could have been seen by all present at the siting rather than a vision of the unexplained?”

Of course it might have been deer that he saw. The question is rather whether it might have been an alien. The townsfolk would rightly question the farmer in terms of plausibility. “What did it look like?” “Where was it?” “Were you drinking?” “Was it maybe just a deer?” But the man would insist that he was in his right mind and it was no deer. So the townsfolk would be forced to conclude one of two things: If they believed it was plausible for the man to have seen an alien, then they would conclude that he might have seen an alien, or his eyes might have deceived him. If, however, they believe it is not plausible (believable, possible, etc.) that he saw an alien, then it must have been deer. In this case they would have to conclude that he was crazy, seeing things, afflicted with SPD. And this conclusion See? The materialist position ambitiously requires an absolute knowledge of everything that exists in the universe, because only then could we say, “No, aliens do not exist anywhere in the universe.” In my opinion the agnostic position, the might, is the much easier one to believe. “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy” (Hamlet).

Okay, having spoken to those questions, I would like to move to the last section of what you wrote. Thank you for your honesty in saying that you disbelieve in an omniscient being. You say that it is unfortunate because it makes your life less ordered and easy to explain. But I don’t believe you mean that, and I wouldn’t mean it either, because this is the thing about us: we would rather follow what is true than what is convenient. We are no sheep. It’s like in The Matrix, when that one guy sells out the rebels in exchange for having his memory erased and being put back in the Matrix on an island with tons of money and stuff. He is a villain because he traded what was true (the war-torn, sad world) for what was comfortable. I respect you for having the guts not to do that. If I do believe that your belief is unfortunate, it is because I believe it to be lacking both real comfort and real truth.

You mentioned some things that led you away from believing that there was a God, and I would love to hear your thoughts on any of those in detail in the future.

The last thing that I would like to say is in reply to your final paragraph, that you do not deal with religion anymore because it is divisive, and instead you try to unite people against the US government and the Religion of the State, which is even more dangerous. I totally agree that there are things that the US does that are very wrong so for the sake of argument I’ll say, “Yeah, the US is a corrupt oligarchical state.” However, I believe that true faithfulness to your belief in political freedom from oppression requires an even more radical position. If you would do me the liberty of reading this admittedly huge chunk of G.K. Chesterton’s Orthodoxy (the book I brought in the other night) as if it were my own words, I would be grateful. He says exactly what I’m trying to say in much better words. I have added a couple editorials in [brackets] and bolded them and some other sentences. Also pardon some archaic historical references and slightly different meaning of some terms—it was published in 1908.

We have remarked that one reason offered for being a progressive is that things naturally tend to grow better. But the only real reason for being a progressive is that things naturally tend to grow worse. The corruption in things is not only the best argument for being progressive; it is also the only argument against being conservative. The conservative theory would really be quite sweeping and unanswerable if it were not for this one fact. But all conservatism is based upon the idea that if you leave things alone you leave them as they are. But you do not. If you leave a thing alone you leave it to a torrent of change. If you leave a white post alone it will soon be a black post. If you particularly want it to be white you must be always painting it again; that is, you must be always having a revolution. Briefly, if you want the old white post you must have a new white post. But this which is true even of inanimate things is in a quite special and terrible sense true of all human things. An almost unnatural vigilance is really required of the citizen because of the horrible rapidity with which human institutions grow old. It is the custom in passing romance and journalism to talk of men suffering under old tyrannies. But, as a fact, men have almost always suffered under new tyrannies; under tyrannies that had been public liberties hardly twenty years before. Thus England went mad with joy over the patriotic monarchy of Elizabeth; and then (almost immediately afterwards) went mad with rage in the trap of the tyranny of Charles the First. So, again, in France the monarchy became intolerable, not just after it had been tolerated, but just after it had been adored. The son of Louis the well-beloved was Louis the guillotined. So in the same way in England in the nineteenth century the Radical manufacturer was entirely trusted as a mere tribune of the people, until suddenly we heard the cry of the Socialist that he was a tyrant eating the people like bread. So again, we have almost up to the last instant trusted the newspapers as organs of public opinion. Just recently some of us have seen (not slowly, but with a start) that they are obviously nothing of the kind. They are, by the nature of the case, the hobbies of a few rich men. We have not any need to rebel against antiquity; we have to rebel against novelty. It is the new rulers, the capitalist or the editor, who really hold up the modern world. There is no fear that a modern king will attempt to override the constitution; it is more likely that he will ignore the constitution and work behind its back; he will take no advantage of his kingly power; it is more likely that he will take advantage of his kingly powerlessness, of the fact that he is free from criticism and publicity. For the king is the most private person of our time. It will not be necessary for any one to fight again against the proposal of a censorship of the press. We do not need a censorship of the press. We have a censorship by the press. [I think you’d agree with that!]

This startling swiftness with which popular systems turn oppressive is the third fact for which we shall ask our perfect theory of progress to allow. It must always be on the look out for every privilege being abused, for every working right becoming a wrong. In this matter I am entirely on the side of the revolutionists. They are really right to be always suspecting human institutions; they are right not to put their trust in princes nor in any child of man. The chieftain chosen to be the friend of the people becomes the enemy of the people; the newspaper started to tell the truth now exists to prevent the truth being told. Here, I say, I felt that I was really at last on the side of the revolutionary. And then I caught my breath again: for I remembered that I was once again on the side of the orthodox.

Christianity spoke again and said: “I have always maintained that men were naturally backsliders; that human virtue tended of its own nature to rust or to rot; I have always said that human beings as such go wrong, especially happy human beings, especially proud and prosperous human beings. This eternal revolution, this suspicion sustained through centuries, you (being a vague modern) call the doctrine of progress. If you were a philosopher you would call it, as I do, the doctrine of original sin. You may call it the cosmic advance as much as you like; I call it what it is—the Fall.”

I have spoken of orthodoxy coming in like a sword; here I confess it came in like a battle-axe. For really (when I came to think of it) Christianity is the only thing left that has any real right to question the power of the well-nurtured or the well-bred. I have listened often enough to Socialists, or even to democrats, saying that the physical conditions of the poor must of necessity make them mentally and morally degraded. I have listened to scientific men (and there are still scientific men not opposed to democracy) saying that if we give the poor healthier conditions vice and wrong will disappear. I have listened to them with a horrible attention, with a hideous fascination. For it was like watching a man energetically sawing from the tree the branch he is sitting on. If these happy democrats could prove their case, they would strike democracy dead. If the poor are thus utterly demoralized, it may or may not be practical to raise them. But it is certainly quite practical to disfranchise them. If the man with a bad bedroom cannot give a good vote, then the first and swiftest deduction is that he shall give no vote. The governing class may not unreasonably say: “It may take us some time to reform his bedroom. But if he is the brute you say, it will take him very little time to ruin our country. Therefore we will take your hint and not give him the chance.” It fills me with horrible amusement to observe the way in which the earnest Socialist industriously lays the foundation of all aristocracy, expatiating blandly upon the evident unfitness of the poor to rule. It is like listening to somebody at an evening party apologising for entering without evening dress, and explaining that he had recently been intoxicated, had a personal habit of taking off his clothes in the street, and had, moreover, only just changed from prison uniform. At any moment, one feels, the host might say that really, if it was as bad as that, he need not come in at all. So it is when the ordinary Socialist, with a beaming face, proves that the poor, after their smashing experiences, cannot be really trustworthy. At any moment the rich may say, “Very well, then, we won’t trust them,” and bang the door in his face. On the basis of Mr. Blatchford’s view of heredity and environment, the case for the aristocracy is quite overwhelming. If clean homes and clean air make clean souls, why not give the power (for the present at any rate) to those who undoubtedly have the clean air? If better conditions will make the poor more fit to govern themselves, why should not better conditions already make the rich [substitute: educated] more fit to govern them? On the ordinary environment argument the matter is fairly manifest. The comfortable class must be merely our vanguard in Utopia.

Is there any answer to the proposition that those who have had the best opportunities will probably be our best guides? Is there any answer to the argument that those who have breathed clean air had better decide for those who have breathed foul? As far as I know, there is only one answer, and that answer is Christianity. Only the Christian Church can offer any rational objection to a complete confidence in the rich. For she has maintained from the beginning that the danger was not in man’s environment, but in man. Further, she has maintained that if we come to talk of a dangerous environment, the most dangerous environment of all is the commodious environment. I know that the most modern manufacture has been really occupied in trying to produce an abnormally large needle. I know that the most recent biologists have been chiefly anxious to discover a very small camel. But if we diminish the camel to his smallest, or open the eye of the needle to its largest—if, in short, we assume the words of Christ to have meant the very least that they could mean, His words must at the very least mean this— that rich [substitute: educated] men are not very likely to be morally trustworthy. Christianity even when watered down is hot enough to boil all modern society to rags. The mere minimum of the Church would be a deadly ultimatum to the world. For the whole modern world is absolutely based on the assumption, not that the rich are necessary (which is tenable), but that the rich [substitute: educated] are trustworthy, which (for a Christian) is not tenable. You will hear everlastingly, in all discussions about newspapers, companies, aristocracies, or party politics, this argument that the rich man cannot be bribed. The fact is, of course, that the rich [substitute: educated] man is bribed; he has been bribed already. That is why he is a rich man. The whole case for Christianity is that a man who is dependent upon the luxuries of this life is a corrupt man, spiritually corrupt, politically corrupt, financially corrupt. There is one thing that Christ and all the Christian saints have said with a sort of savage monotony. They have said simply that to be rich [substitute: educated] is to be in peculiar danger of moral wreck. It is not demonstrably un-Christian to kill the rich as violators of definable justice. It is not demonstrably un-Christian to crown the rich as convenient rulers of society. It is not certainly un-Christian to rebel against the rich or to submit to the rich. But it is quite certainly un-Christian to trust the rich, to regard the rich as more morally safe than the poor. A Christian may consistently say, “I respect that man’s rank, although he takes bribes.” But a Christian cannot say, as all modern men are saying at lunch and breakfast, “a man of that rank would not take bribes.” For it is a part of Christian dogma that any man in any rank may take bribes. It is a part of Christian dogma; it also happens by a curious coincidence that it is a part of obvious human history. When people say that a man “in that position” would be incorruptible, there is no need to bring Christianity into the discussion. Was Lord Bacon a bootblack? Was the Duke of Marlborough a crossing sweeper? In the best Utopia, I must be prepared for the moral fall of any man in any position at any moment; especially for my fall from my position at this moment.

Do you see what Chesterton and I are getting at? If we are to be really honest about oppression, we must admit that it follows mankind like a shadow—because we ourselves cast it. We have to embrace the real solidarity of the human race: The paradoxically mixed good and evil of human nature. We are all half perpetrator and half victim. None of us is fit to rule. It’s not the USA, or THOSE RICH GUYS, it’s ALL OF US. By itself this would lead to a useless despair—“We’ll never get free!” or as Chuck said, “Might as well be the US because someone else will oppress us if they don’t.”

But Christianity does not leave us there. It does not write off the problem, or tune it out, it amplifies it—“oppression is ubiquitous”—but then it introduces a hope into the equation which is bigger than any country or league of countries. It gives us a remedy for human nature, and a trustworthy king, trustworthy because he is not merely human. And it allows us to relocate our hope from earthly kingdoms to the kingdom of God. It promises that justice will be served and all the powerful oppressors humbled one day. And it gives us the courage to fight to bring that kingdom, full of social justice and peace, to reality on the earth even now. Christianity ushers in the liberation of the human soul from his own bonds of oppression of himself and others. This ultimate liberation—the kind you are looking for—is only found in the rule of the rightful king. I know you don’t believe the Bible but permit me to quote a poetic vision from Psalm 99 about as I close:

The strength of the King loves justice;

You have established equity;

You have executed justice and righteousness in Jacob.

I hope that this has made some sense—it’s big stuff for me too, strong in my head but hard to catch and stuff into words. I’m eager to hear your thoughts and replies and I promise I will read anything even as long as this was J.

Your fellow yearning earthling,

Ben

A few thoughts on Ferguson, MO

This is about the shooting of Michael Brown by officer Darren Wilson in August and the subsequent racial protests that have culminated in arson, vandalism and riots after a grand jury decided Monday not to indict Wilson.

It is unfortunate that race is still a divisive issue in America. It’s certainly getting better but I suppose we’ll never be totally free of it. It seems like a part of the human condition that we hate and blame the other. There seem to be two ways forward.

A) the enforcement of anti-racist racial profiling

B) the presence of divine love

A desire for Option A is entailed by objections leveled at the statistical disparity between law enforcement race and resident race in Ferguson. The solution that is implied is that the law enforcement recruitment should conform to the racial ratios of its jurisdictions. The only way to achieve this would be to racially screen and select the hiring of police officers, which is a blatant form of racial profiling that ironically contradicts the ideals that it is supposed to support. Police, just like teachers, doctors, and supermarket clerks, should be hired without discrimination on the basis of race.

The sad irony is that both the anorexic and the glutton err in the way of food. Both the haughty man and the self-abasing man sin err in the way of pride. Both the man who’s trigger heeds an inner disdain for a socioeconomic class, and the man whose glass bottle and torch heeds and inner resentment of a socioeconomic class, err in the way of racism. Mankind is like a troubled pendulum trying to be still.

Divine love, the love present in the true Church, is totally blind to race. We see everyone as part of the same race and family. We are all both members of the apostate race of Adam and restored citizens of the Kingdom of God through the mercy of Christ.

On one hand, as children of Adam, we are in the humbling position of being debtors and thieves who have received pardon. We are also the oppressed who couldn’t get a break, kept under the thumb of spiritual forces of darkness, until Christ liberated us and restored our freedom and dignity. What man in this position can look at a vandal from the hood and scorn him as if he were better? Rather, he sees himself in that man and has compassion for him.

On the other hand, as children of Christ, we are dignified and we are real equals. We have an equality that is not based on money or color but on the blood of Christ that marks each of us alike and gives us infinite worth. We are free, not oppressed. This means, when we feel discriminated against, we have the courage to forgive our oppressors and stand up tall under oppression with a banner of peace, instead of lashing back. This is the kind of courage that Martin Luther King Jr. had and I am confident it was possible through his faith in Jesus Christ, in the midst of the other, violent protesting of the 1960’s. And in the end, it means that we don’t care about getting a fair share of power in society because we have infinite power in another society, and this earthly society is cheap and decaying. Those with less power who clamor for equality would be their oppressors if they could. This is the sad situation in Zimbabwe under Robert Mugabe. What vice goes around comes around.

But those who are free in Christ are cut free from the whole vicious cycle and are empowered to neither perpetrate nor exact revenge. Praise be to God who alone breaks the chains and sets captives free.

C.S. Lewis on a “Christian Political Party”

I came across this essay, “Meditation on the Third Commandment”, by C.S. Lewis, while reading God in the Dock, a collection of his lesser-known writings. He brings in a reminder not to believe that the Kingdom of God will be achieved by political means. His essay is expressed in terms of the 1940’s political situation in England, but it is remarkably relevant to the United States in the twenty-first century. In this historically “Christian country”, it is easy to over-associate our political and social beliefs with our religious beliefs, to get caught thinking (or at least feeling), “If only this law would be passed, if only this political party would succeed, then our country would get right with God again.” But to do so is to run the risk of breaking the Third Commandment.

“You shall not misuse the name of the Lord your God” (Exodus 20:7)

We must not attach the name of the Lord to anything man-made. The Kingdom that Jesus preached was decidedly unpolitical (“render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s”), despite the longings of Israel for political deliverance from the Romans. Although we must maintain strong hope and desire that the power of God will influence all layers of culture, including our government, we should take care not to expect that His power will manifest itself as a particular human-level institution or political platform. C.S. Lewis says it much better than I can, so I highly recommend reading this article, bearing in mind that a little cultural transposition is necessary.

“Meditation on the Third Commandment”
(C.S. Lewis, 1941)

Bigger questions

A Response to Lauren and Nate on Abortion and Gay Marriage

I spent the last weekend wrestling with some very good comments I received by Lauren, Nate and others from my Open Letter to Christians Concerning the Presidential Election. I am grateful to them for the thoughtful responses that made me really think twice about things. I offer the following response in hopes that it will be as helpful/challenging/insightful as their thoughts were to me. If you prefer, here is a PDF form of the article:

On Abortion

My friend Lauren says, “Economic stability, especially for the lower and middle class, is what’s going to reduce abortions.” She says that fewer abortions happen by “reducing unwanted pregnancies, and unwanted pregnancies are reduced by providing women and girls with educational [sex ed] and economic opportunities.” This is true, but I think it is a red herring, not the real issue.

I totally agree that sex ed can help reduce unwanted pregnancies. No cultural event short of the Second Coming will totally halt illicit sex, so I am in favor of teaching safe sex to the young and undereducated. That is, providing that real alternatives to sexually active lifestyles are presented, and the dangers of sexual activity are discussed. (I don’t think that sexual activity should be merely assumed, but presented as a choice.) Yet, however well sex ed may be taught, some unwanted pregnancies will persist. The question is, what to do with these?

As for economic stability, yes, poor socioeconomic conditions increase the rate of unwanted pregnancies. However, I think it impossible to argue that people who are economically stable and well educated will not have any unwanted pregnancies, and therefore will not want to get abortions. Rich people sometimes want to get abortions too. What do we do with these cases?

So we agree that it is good to work to decrease the number of unwanted pregnancies. But the real sticky question is, what do you do with those pregnancies that are still unwanted?

Before answering this, let me take down a pair of straw men. Lauren defended that pro-choice people don’t “support abortion”—they think there should be less abortions. I never meant to communicate otherwise. I don’t think that pro-choice people are happy when babies die—they simply see the woman’s choice as more important. And on the other hand, some people assume that pro-life people don’t care about the women who get abortions. I confess that I, for one, usually don’t show enough gentleness toward the difficult, sometimes harrowing personal situations surrounding abortion decisions. I admit that I need to do more to help them and show that I care. However, the pro-life position does care about the women; it’s just that they see the baby’s life as more important.

So the right course of action in those pregnancies that are unwanted depends on which is more valuable: the woman’s choice or the life of the baby? This question in turn depends on whether it is really a baby, a person—or simply a fetus, a nonperson. The issue of abortion thus depends on how we define personhood, which follows from the worldview that we are looking through.

From a humanist or materialist worldview, a human being becomes a person when it reaches some point of self-awareness or sentience, or when it is able to feel a certain amount of pain, or by some other subjective standard determined by a judge or by popular vote. So no one can say exactly when a fetus becomes a person. The definition is wishy-washy. (I once had a friend who thought that infanticide was permissible until around age two.) A “possible-person” or a “pre-person” has less rights than a full person, so, under a materialist view, the adult mother’s right to choose naturally trumps the rights of the “baby” prior to a certain point. A materialist has to support the right of the woman to choose.

From a Christian worldview, a human being is a person from the moment of conception. In fact, it is really a person before conception (but I suppose it would be difficult to kill someone prior to their conception). Consider the following scriptures.

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.” (Jeremiah 1:5)

For you formed my inward parts;

you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

Wonderful are your works;

my soul knows it very well.

My frame was not hidden from you,

when I was being made in secret,

intricately woven in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes saw my unformed substance;

in your book were written, every one of them,

the days that were formed for me,

when as yet there was none of them. (Psalm 139:13-19)

God gives identity to human beings even before they come into physical existence, and it is he who forms them in the womb. If we believe this, then the thing we abort is a person whom God has ordained and known and named and begun himself to shape. Thus human life takes on sacredness. That child is God’s as much as it is the woman’s. It is more than a person; it is a son or daughter of God. Therefore, it seems to me, the Bible allows no other position than that fetuses in the womb are persons, and are thus entitled to the right of life. If the unborn are entitled to the right of life, yet unable to defend their lives themselves, then it is the responsibility of our government to make laws protecting that right.

Lauren says that Roe v. Wade did not increase the number of abortions—it just gave safer options to women who would have gone to drastic measures anyway. She mentions some uncited research. I’m curious about the degree of conclusiveness that this research can reach as to whether legalizing abortion did not in any way increase the number of abortions. As she says, abortions were not documented before, so how can we know for sure? Someone close to me has had two abortions. She told me recently, “I probably wouldn’t have had those abortions if they were illegal. I was scared, but I don’t think I would have gone looking for ways to do it. You don’t think through things like that when you’re pregnant, you’re just scared.” I’ll admit that, possibly, a very significant number of people found ways to have abortions when they were illegal, but I question whether legality doesn’t have a significant curbing effect for many women. And if that curbing effect is all the law can produce, it is nonetheless worth making the law.

Ultimately, I think the solution to abortion is both to reduce unwanted pregnancies, and also to advocate for the lives of the most defenseless children in our society. This is about helping mothers and saving their babies. It’s an issue of social justice as important as any—they are “invisible children” too.

On Gay Marriage

The other hot topic about which I received excellent replies is the legalization of homosexual marriage. Lauren makes the point that opposing gay marriage communicates hatred to gays. Both Lauren and Nate argue that, as far as the government is concerned, marriage is merely a social contract, and the law should be blind to any moral or religious dimensions of marriage. I will respond to these two points below.

1. Opposing gay marriage communicates hatred

Lauren says that vocalizing a political stance in opposition to gay marriage makes the gay community feel like Christians hate them. Saying that gay marriage is wrong “alienates people when I’m supposed to love them….It automatically throws up barriers to loving and serving a community that is in desperate need of love and truth.”

First, I want to admit that I’m not very good at loving the gay community. Neither are most evangelicals (n.b. I apply the label to myself with certain reservations). I want to change that. Making some of my first gay friends at GMU during the last two years has been very enlightening. I totally agree that Christians need to stop sending the vibe that homosexuals are heinous, beyond-redemption perverts who are single-handedly responsible for the moral demise of our country. We need to develop bridges of communication and friendship. Jesus hung out with the tax collectors.

But if gays are indeed a community “in desperate need of love and truth,” as Lauren says, then loving them while tip-toeing around the truth they desperately need is no love at all. The gospel first empathizes and identifies with your brokenness until you can admit “I have a problem.” Then it says, “Jesus is the answer to your problem.” This is the gospel for every one of us guys who has had a problem with porn, and every couple who is living together, so a gay couple is not exempt. When Jesus hung out with tax collectors, he explained it by saying, “It is not the healthy who need a physician, but a sick.” I feel that the homosexual political agenda (maybe not all gays themselves) is asking me to agree that “nothing is wrong.” Well, nothing is more wrong with you than with me, but that is still a lot of wrong. If I hold the Christian worldview, it is the most hateful thing I can do to smile and nod when gays say that they’re “born this way and they don’t need to change.” It is the most loving thing I can do to embody the tension between truth and love that exists in the gospel. Living this tension will probably make enemies with many conservatives, and it won’t be enough for gays who want exoneration from any moral standard other than “being true to their hearts.” But I feel like that is the line God has called his people to walk in our culture today.

2. The government has no right to define marriage

The second thrust of Lauren’s argument about gay marriage is that the government should not be concerned with any sanctity of marriage. “Marriage” to the government is simply a social contract that “ensures joint property rights, right to decide medical care issues, etc.” Any so-called sanctity is only within the walls of the church. (I presume she means like how the Roman Catholic and Orthodox churches “recognize” marriages.) This connects with Nate’s point that the purview of the government is to interfere with someone’s freedom only if it violates someone else’s. The U.S. is not Israel, he observes. It is not built to enforce Christian mores, but to tolerate the maximum number of mores. Lauren and Nate essentially agree that the government should be blind to all but the economic and social privileges due to any two people who are willing to enter into a contract of life cooperation.

This is the point I almost agreed with. I agreed with it for most of the weekend; I kept thinking about it while helping to paint my parents’ house. I annoyed my wife by playing devil’s advocate with both positions back and forth. Our government was built on the right of every man to the “pursuit of happiness”. What right does it have to define what may or may not make him happy? Isn’t that counter to the heart of the American experiment? As Nate implied when he referred to the “red scare,” if people want to be communists, they are allowed. Likewise, if people want to be gay, they are entitled to all the rights otherwise due to them by the government—including the privileges conveyed by marriage laws.

This reasoning, however, makes an assumption. It assumes that the authority exercised by the civil government is derived solely from the consent of the citizens, and that there is no greater authority than those citizens themselves. Is there a greater authority?

The Declaration of Independence says that authority of the government is derived from the rights that “the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle” to man. It holds the these truths to be self-evident: “that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.–That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed….” The authority that our government exercises is derived from the combination of the “consent of the governed” and the Laws of Nature. Without the laws of nature, I suppose we would have a simple majority rule—whatever the majority of people voted on at any one time, would be right. An appeal to individual rights in the Natural Law gives minorities a voice, protects the marginalized and powerless, and forms the foundation of social justice. Crucially, such the Natural Law cannot be divided from a Lawmaker, God, since no rule exists without an authority enforcing it with proper jurisdiction.

Furthermore, if the standards of the Creator were revealed to us in ways other than Natural Law, then these revelations too would hold sway, just as the Natural Law does. Justice Joseph Story (1779-1845), then Dane Professor of Law in Harvard University, captures this perfectly:

“the Law of Nature…lies at the foundation of all others laws, and constitutes the first step in the science of jurisprudence…” but, “the law of nature has a higher sanction, as it stands supported and illustrated by revelation. Christianity, while with many minds it acquires authority from its coincidences with the law of nature, as deduced from reason, has added strength and dignity to the latter by its positive declarations….Thus Christianity becomes, not merely an auxiliary, but a guide to the law of nature, establishing its conclusions, removing its doubts, and elevating its precepts. (A Discourse Pronounced Upon the Inauguration of the Author)

Therefore, if government is built on the Laws of Nature, and the Laws of Nature descend from God, the Lawmaker, and if Christianity is the revelation of God, then the principles of Christianity ought to inform and constrain the principles of civil law.

If we accept that God is the ultimate sovereign, then we must believe that governmental strata that steward his authority must be structured to acknowledge the sovereignty of God.

It just so happens that the authority to which government answers has defined marriage. God has painted a pretty clear picture in his word about homosexuality and marriage. He calls homosexuality wrong and unnatural, while urging that marriage be kept holy (1 Corinthians 6:9, Jude 1:5-6, Romans 1:24-27, Leviticus 18:22, etc.). I won’t get into this in detail because I don’t think we disagree about what the Bible says on this topic.

If homosexual marriage thus violates Divine Law, which informs the Natural Law, and if right civil statutes derive their authority by conformance to the Natural Law, then civil homosexual marriage also violates right civil statues. It is the obligation of good citizens who have a Christian worldview to vote for representatives who will create right civil statues that adhere to the Divine law.

What is ultimate, democracy or deity? We are faced in our culture with the tacit elimination of God’s authority in the public sphere. The humanist believes that people’s freedom is limited by nothing but their desires. The Christian believes that people’s freedom is limited by God’s laws. And we gladly fight to keep the knee of our country knelt before God. “Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a disgrace to any people” (Proverbs 14:34).

Bringing Change

The questions of abortion and gay marriage summon deeper questions. Who defines personhood? Who has sovereignty over man? These questions lead us down to the bedrock of worldviews. Do we believe that God exists? Do we believe all of His implications, in all the spheres of life? Are we willing to stand up for these beliefs?

I will end by discussing one of Nate’s points. He says that making laws against a certain immoral practice will not stop the practice from happening. Legislation will not bring about change. He says, “I don’t think we can charge people with being moral when they don’t understand the real reason why it’s needed. Christ produces morality and fruit, and not vice-versa.” I admit that it is the Holy Spirit who makes the ultimate change in hearts, but this is not a reason to abdicate our seat at the cultural roundtable. In fact, quite the opposite. We are Christ’s representatives. If he is to get into people’s hearts, it will be through us—through our speaking the truth in love. (And in love is crucial.) We need to be like Christ, unswerving in his condemnation of sin in the Jewish culture, yet recklessly compassionate in his dealings with the broken, sinful Jews. As I said regarding abortion, this is the tension we are called to walk as believers. We need to fearlessly advocate toward a culture that honors and obeys God, while loving and being a part of a culture that isn’t there yet. We may never see direct fruit of our efforts, but by God’s grace, they will not be in vain.

An open letter to Christians on the presidential election

Dear fellow Christians,

When I found out that my choices for the 2012 presidential election were between a Mormon and the current administration, I admit that I lost interest. I don’t consider either man a role model who embodies the ideals, faith, and values that I espouse. And I don’t think I should blindly hold to a party line. I don’t want to be one of those Christians who mistake a particular political ideology (conservative, liberal) or party (Republicans, Democrats) for the Kingdom of God. Ultimately, the kingdoms of earth will come and go, but the King of Kings will remain. So generally, I don’t care much for politics. I think we citizens of the Eternal Nation should maintain some perspective.

Nevertheless, too many of my ancestors have died to purchase my right to vote for me to say, “whatever” and write the whole political scene off as corrupt. So, what am I supposed to do with my vote? What are you supposed to do with yours, since “Jesus” is not one of the names on the ticket?

Although economic issues and foreign policy are certainly important, God warns his people countless times against pursuing financial stability above obedience to God. If we “seek first the Kingdom” he will “add all these things.” If we trust in God more than we trust in our country’s leaders, then our job is to vote for righteousness, not for the plan that will create more jobs, or ensure us the best healthcare, etc. These are extremely important, but they’re just not priority. God doesn’t speak about medical policies, but he does say, “Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people” (Proverbs 14:34).

So how the heck do you “vote for righteousness”? Well, what does God care about? What does he legislate about? Well, he seems to care a lot about the value and dignity of human life. And he also cares about marriage. How so? He created those two things back in the Garden of Eden, and called them good. God hated it when the Caananites sacrificed their children (dignity of human life) and he punished the Israelites for intermarrying with them (marriage). He said when you care for the “least of these” (who is lesser than the unborn child?) you cared for Him. He called homosexuality immoral and unnatural (1 Corinthians 6:9, Jude 1:5-6, Romans 1:24-27, Leviticus 18:22, etc.).

Maybe you see what I’m getting at. I think that the social-moral issues represented on the ballot, chiefly, abortion and homosexual marriage, are more important than who’s the better debater, who pays more taxes, or who can ensure me a larger tax return. I think they are utmost importance. I think God cares about them. And I think that our attitude toward these practices affects whether we will be a fragrant smell to God, or a reproach to Him.

(I also must interject that taking Mr. Biden’s stance, “I believe abortion is wrong but I’ll not push that on others,” is a farce. If you actually believe that those embryos are humans, then you are an accomplice to murder because it was in your power to stop it. No one would exonerate someone who passively witnessed a stepfather rape of his stepson because “it was his son”.)

Perhaps you’re reading this and you’re not a Christian, or if you hold to a foggy, pick ‘n’ choose theism. If so, you should know that, if I held your worldview, I would certainly support the right of the mother or of the two gay lovers, to choose. But to my brothers and sisters, who have read the Bible and who really accept it as more than niceties and folklore and antiquated ecclesiastical power plays: how can you vote for a candidate who supports abortion and homoesexual marriage? Please do explain it to me.

For me, anyway, these moral issues trump. Although I don’t particularly like either candidate on a personal level, basing my voting decision on my faith in Jesus and on the Bible has made my decision this November a little bit simpler.

In Christ,

Ben Taylor

Respecting vicarious authority

What should our thinking be toward government? We should remember that we are always citizens of the Kingdom of God before we are citizens of any nation (and it if comes to it, we must disobey in order to keep the faith). However, given that, we ought to submit to government, not resisting, protesting, and causing dissension. Paul writes to the Romans:

Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment. (Romans 13:1-2)

Some authorities, including government, are instituted by God, and carry his own authority vicariously. We are told to respect authorities, because by doing so, since they are the extension of God’s authority, we are in fact respecting God Himself. There is a parallel between the thinking here and that written in Matthew 25. People are commended on the final judgment for helping Jesus when he was sick, naked, and hungry. They ask, “Lord, we when did we do this? We don’t remember it. We’ve never actually met you…” The King’s reply:

‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’

Because those poor people represented the recipients through which those people could demonstrate mercy, God counted them as merciful and tender-hearted even to Himself. In the same way, when we obey government, we are obeying God, who has established them as the stewards of his authority. Of course, there are limits to this, because governments can be abusive. The Bible also says, “There is a time for war,” and that includes war against an oppressive government, but that does not justify the cynical government-bashing, boss-bashing, and father-bashing that are so rampant in our culture. The Christian’s default mode should be one of reverence and respect for those whom God has appointed. We should remember that our political leaders, our fathers, our husbands, and whoever else is over us, have God to answer to, and us to answer for; it is not our job to hold them accountable. God has appointed them, and he still rules them, and will exercise his purposes through them. He is the King of Kings. By honoring Kings, we show our faith in their King.

Injustice

There once was a young farmer named Jitandra who lived in the countryside of India. He came from a poor family. He grew rice on his family’s land and worked hard each year until his hands were rough and crisscrossed with scars.

Now there was a young woman named Aadab in the neighboring town whom this young man loved, and she loved him. They had known each other since childhood and dreamed of being married one day. The man’s family had arranged with the girl’s family to get her as his bride, after he earned enough money and established himself. So he labored hard year after year, and finally the year came when they could be married.

Their wedding day was a day of celebration for the people of both villages. Food and drink, song and dance, they lasted until the sun set, and after. Jitandra’s bride sat beside him on a cushion, with gold earrings and nose ring, with finely embroidered red, blue and gold cloth hanging elegantly over the smooth curves of her brown shoulders. Her eyes were vibrant and mesmerizing. Best of all, they looked back at Jitandra with joy and love.

Several months after the wedding, Aadab was walking to the creek near Jitandra’s house, with a pot for water. Jitandra was standing knee-deep in a rice paddy, watching her from a distance, daydreaming about how happy he was to have won such a woman. His contemplation was interrupted by a group of horsemen—maybe 10 or 15—approaching down the creek. By their elaborate colors and banners, he judged they must be officials of the king of the province. They halted in front of Aadab, and Jitandra suddenly felt nervous. He began wading hurriedly toward the edge of the paddy.

***

“What have we here?” said one of the men on horseback, eyeing Aadab with interest. Aadab bowed and nervously corrected the shoulder of her garment, which had slipped low.

“A fine blossom! What says the prince?” said another, with a red banner billowing behind his turban. A third rider kicked his mount forward and pressed out in front of the two. Aadab instantly knew this must be the son of the king, for he wore a red sash with a symbol that matched the banner, and there was a gold medallion on his turban. She lowered her eyes reverently from his gaze.

“Indeed, a fair flower,” said the prince. Aadab bowed lower, not out of respect, but to shrink away from their lustful stares. The first rider nudged the prince. “Better than that woman you got from the south province, in my eyes. I think she’d make a fine addition to the palace.”

“I am the wife of your servant, a humble farmer,” said Aadab, face still lowered, hear heart fearful. The prince was known to do whatsoever he pleased, caring little for the well being of his father’s subjects.

“Married – the blossom has to be plucked out of some weeds,” said another of the riders, and the group laughed. The prince dismounted and slowly encircled Aadab, his eyes evaluating her with growing interest.

“What is a rice-paddy rat to me? Such beauty is worthy of a nobler house.” He stood in front of Aadab now and lifted her chin with his finger until she looked back at him reluctantly. “Wouldn’t you say so?”

“My lord…” Aadab’s voice quivered fearfully. “I don’t…”

***

Jitandra saw the man with the medallion on his turban dismount and circle his wife. The prince,he realized, and scowled. Royal pickpocket, rather. Jitandrawas on solid ground now, and he broke into a sprint. But even as he did, the prince gestured to his retinue, and a mounted man grabbed Aadab and swung her onto his horse. The prince remounted his own horse.

“Stop!” he shouted. “My lord, wait!” Jitandra rushed up to the horses just as they were turning to leave. He slowed, panting, as the prince reared his horse around.

“The paddy rat, I presume?” said the prince.

“I am the humble servant of your father the king. That woman is no virgin, but my wife. We are only these three months married. Respect the gods, I adjure you! Return her.”

The prince looked over the poor farmer with legs coated to the knee in mud from the rice field. He sniffed in disgust. “Go back to your mud hovel before you regret this impertinence. The woman is mine now. You should be grateful that I have rescued her from your sad existence.”
Before Jitandra could reply, the prince kicked his mount with a “Hee!” His retinue followed, laughing at the poor farm boy as the hooves of their steeds began to thunder on the ground.
“Noo!” screamed Jitandra, following. He tried to reach Aadab, but the rider drew his blade and jabbed it at him threateningly. “Respect royal blood, dungheap!” In a moment, the horses were shrinking into the distance. Aadab craned her head around and met her husband’s eyes with a tearful gaze that cried out to him in desperation.
“No, no, no, no,” Jitandra mumbled incoherently as his head pounded in a mixture of rage and dread. His vision was blurring as the party disappeared in a cloud of dust. Disoriented, he fell to his knees.

***

Aadab’s parting glance haunted Jitandra as the moon rose. He couldn’t sleep. There was only one way to get her back – to appeal to the king himself. But a commoner entering the king’s presence without invitation could mean imprisonment or death, and if the commoner was bringing an accusation against the king’s son, then…. But then Jitandra thought about the prince lying with his beloved, while he lay there doing nothing. Death was better. Before dawn he rose and gathered rice cakes, a gourd of water, and Aadab’s wedding jewelry. Putting these three things into a small satchel, he set out on the three-day journey to the capital city.

Jitandra arrived there more dirty than usual, and his feet were sore and bleeding. His clothes puffed dust when he touched them. He found his way through throngs of people in the frenetic bazaar until he recognized the spire of the government citadel. He had seen it once when he was a boy, when his parents took him on a religious pilgrimage. The gate was guarded: half a dozen burly bronze-plated guards brooded with expressions that suggested they would gladly sculpt an impetuous commoner with their swords just to liven up their day. Jitandra decided to find an alternative route. Waiting until dusk, he left his satchel in a narrow alley that ran along the back side of the government citadel. He waited for silence, then climbed onto a cart and from there, and leaped up to grab an ornamental sconce of the wall. That provided a toehold from which he stood and extended himself another body’s length, until his fingers barely caught the top of the wall. A moment later he over, dropping into the shadows on the inside of the wall.

Nearby, an enormous building exuded light and sounds of mirth from its windows – the royal court. As Jitandra weighed out his next move, a guard appeared to his left with a torch.

“Ay! Intruder!”

Three guards stepped out of nowhere at the call and their eyes converged on Jitandra. He cursed. No time to think. Now it was either die in the courtyard, or in the courtroom. He sprinted for the glowing entrance to the court, guards on his trail. He made it there and the big doors creaked as he slipped inside.

In an instant his eyes took it all in. Guards, like statues, lined the sides of the long hall. Fires burned in braziers hanging from brass hooks on the sides of monstrous wooden pillars. Golden idols lined the alcoves between the pillars, and glowed, danced in the light of the fires. The room was filled with plumed magistrates, administrators, attendants, musicians, and servant girls bringing food and wine. At the far end of the room, the king’s throne towered over the scene, laid with intricate gold depictions of Vishnu and the ancestral gods, and atop the throne sat the king.

Before anyone knew what was happening, Jitandra ran past the dining lords and flung himself prostrate in front of the throne. The clang of plates and goblets, the chatter, all froze. Guards rushed toward him and were about to seize him.

“Justice!” cried Jitandra, so loud that the hall rang with it. “My lord, give me justice!”

The guards formed a circle around Jitandra and seized him, dragging him to his feet. The king size him up for a moment. “Peasant fool! Did you not know that the price of your caste interrupting a royal feast is your life?” He raised his hand to order the guards, but exchanged glances with his wife, who sat on a cushion beside the throne. His face softened slightly. “But we are beneficent and merciful, and so we will hear you first. Tell me, who is it who entreats the king’s justice?” he asked.

“My name is Jitandra Ahbaraja, of the northern province, your servant. My life is yours, my king, only correct the wrong that has been done to me.”

“What injustice?” asked the king.

Jitandra related to him the story, how the king’s son had three days ago stolen his bride of three months. “So my lord, there is none but you I can appeal to. Surely you know the love of woman, that is no different in noble or ignoble blood. Please give me back my bride!”

The king glared down at Jitandra. “A surf dares challenge the integrity of my son! For this dishonor, birds will dishonor your corpse in the city square!” He raised his hand to command, but stopped it in midair as his eyes made contact with his chief adviser. They exchanged a knowing glance, and the king’s voice became cool and calculated.

“However…so that royal blood can be vindicated before the gods,” he indicated the golden figures that surrounded the room, “we shall bring the woman here, and she shall declare to us which of you is her rightful husband.” The king gave orders that the woman be found and brought to the king’s court.

The courtroom was bubbling with murmurs among the nobles when the woman was brought in the next hour. The prince was with her, his red sash glistening confidently. He stepped up to Jitandra almost lazily and spat at his feet.

Aadab was wearing a thin, golden band around her forehead, and a blue dress. Her eyes flicked upward to Jitandra, but she lowered them almost immediately.

“Tell me, Aadab daughter of Kurshan,” called the king from the throne, in a regal bellow directed as much to the gathered nobility as to her. “Who is your husband, this peasant or the prince?”

Aadab didn’t move. Jitandra could see her body trembling.

The king grew impatient. “Kurshan’s daughter, who is your husband?”

Aadab slowly raised her arm toward the prince. “The prince is my husband, my lord.” She faced Jitandra. “I have never seen this peasant in my life.” The nobles erupted in approval, and the king clapped his hands, satisfied. Jitandra could not believe what he had just heard.

“Aadab, my love, do you not know me?” he pleaded to her.

She looked back at him, brow furrowed, jaw set. “I’m sorry,” she said. The prince’s lips curled upward into a grin and his eyes feasted on Jitandra’s ghastly expression.

The king slammed his fist. “This lying scum has wasted enough of my time. Go and hang him in the city center!” The guards began to drag Jitandra away. He let his feet slide limply – at Aadab’s denial, all energy had drained out from him.

At that moment a Buddhist priest approached the throne. His head was shaved, a rich, maroon cloth his only garment. From his careful shuffle and reptilian skin, he seemed to be as old as the wooden pillars that lined the courtroom. Jitandra’s mind was reeling so much that he did not hear what the priest was saying to the king, but when the guards let him go and bowed low before the priest, things came back into focus. This was Saji-dulal, the Great Sage, who some people in the mountains even called an avatar of the gods.

“My Lord the King, I suspect that this woman is lying,” said the sage. “My wisdom tells me she cannot be trusted. However, I have here a potion,” he held up a small onyx vile, “that causes a man to speak the truth, compulsively, once he drinks it. Let us administer it to the two men, the prince and the peasant, and in half an hours’ time they will speak the truth for themselves. After all, the king knows that the testimony of a man is more valuable in the royal court.”

The king squirmed, but his counselors nodded in approval. Finally he agreed. “The royal family will be vindicated,” he said confidently. “Let the potion be administered.”

So the prince and Jitandra approached the old priest, and he poured half of the potion into each of their mouths. Jitandra swallowed it with a bitter gulp. “Now, my lord, let each of these men be put into seclusion with the woman, each for a quarter of an hour, while the potion does its work.”

“Why is that necessary?” demanded the king.

“This truth potion requires the presence of lies, my lord, in order to mend them. When the woman speaks to each man, the power of the potion will perceive that which is false, and when its effect ripens, it will speak that which is true instead.” So the king allowed the woman to be taken to the storage chamber adjoining the courtroom. The prince was admitted first, and spent the allotted time. When he returned to the room, his eyes were as infuriatingly lazy and confident as ever.

Then Jitandra was admitted to the room. It was full of large barrels of wine and crates of food. As soon as the door was closed, Aadab lept into his arms. “Oh Jitandra, I’m so sorry! They made me say that I was the prince’s wife. They made me say that I didn’t know you!”

Joy and disbelief washed over him. “What?”

Aadab explained how the prince had threatened to kill Jitandra if Aadab did not disown him. “It was the only way to keep you alive!”

Jitandra exhaled, relief washing over him. “You still love me,” he smiled.

“More that life. I would gladly bear imprisonment in the harem for you sake, but I could not see you die for mine.” Jitandra embraced his wife, afraid it might be the last time he would touch her.

***

“The time has passed. Have them speak!” said the king. The nobles were on edge, the room was quiet. Jitandra and the prince stood before the throne, with Saji-dulal between them, sitting on the floor, his hands supine in meditation.

“Come, priest!” the king said again.

Saji-dulal opened his eyes. “Bring me largest wine-barrel in the cellar where the woman was.” Bewildered, the king nodded nonetheless and guards went and brought the barrel, placing it in front of the priest. The priest stood up, took a deep, slow breath, then said, “Riki! Come out!”

Suddenly, the top board of the barrel popped off, and a small boy jumped out. Before anyone could wipe the bewilderment from their faces, the boy handed Saji-dulal a piece of parchment. “Did you write just as you heard?” asked the sage.

“Yes, master, every word spoken. Although it was hard to write with one slit of light–”

Saji-dulal unfolded the parchment and examined it. After a long squint he nodded. “Well done, boy.” Then he turned to the king and spoke as loudly as his frail form allowed. “My lord! That potion was not no more magical than the triumph of wisdom over foolishness.” He raised the parchment in the air. “My servant has procured the words spoken in secret between the woman and these two men.” The sage spun around to face Jitandra. “This man spoke love with her…” Then he turned to face the prince, “…while this man spoke threats, lest she confess her heart!”

The nobles gasped. The prince turned as red as his sash and seemed to puff like a peacock with indignation. Saji-dulal raised his hand as if to stifle a retort, turning back around to face the king. “My lord, administer of justice: as surely as I live, this woman is the wife of the peasant man. Your son is a liar and adulterer, whose penalty shall be death.”

At this, pandemonium struck the court. The nobles all stood and began pushing each other and yelling, as if debating whether to defend or accuse the prince. The prince was bellowing and spitting curses at the priest. Shielded by the cacophony, and liberated by the proclamation of truth, Jitandra and Aadab rushed to each other clasped hands, eyes bursting with joy.

The noise suddenly ceased when the king bellowed, “Enough!” The court watched him silently. “My son wishes to speak.”

The prince stood at the foot of the throne and bowed. “My father, these men have conspired against you! This boy has written lies, and the sage lied to you about that potion! They are in league with this peasant!” Murmurs spread throughout the court. Jitandra couldn’t believe his ears. The prince was breathing heavily, still red in the face, and his eyes were on fire with malice. His words tumbled out fast, as if he were improvising to stay one step ahead of panic. “Saji-dulal’s wisdom has inflated his ambitions, father. He has enlisted this peasant boy to play a false role, so that your house would be defamed! He’s creating an opportunity to seize power – seize the loyalty of the nobles!”

“That’s outrageous!” shouted one of the magistrates. “Saji-dulal is a peaceful sage!”

“I have intelligence, spies among you, who say otherwise!” He continued, gathering confidence. “On my honor as the son of the king, this woman is my wife! This filthy priest and his cohorts have failed to defile noble blood. They are conspirators and liars!”

The prince leaned close to the king. The feigned confidence in his eyes flashed to pitiable pleading for an instant. “Father, don’t you see – how this peasant scum will ruin me—us—damage the magistrates’ loyalty to your power? Defend me!” The king’s eyes widened, and he stared back at his son, calculating…thinking. Finally, his expression hardened. He avoided eye contact with the queen as he stood and raised his hand in proclamation.

“A servant boy, an old man, and a peasant are unfit to bring a death sentence upon the heir to this throne. They have dishonored themselves by intruding into this court and levying rash accusations, and they shall be punished accordingly. This is my decree: execute them all!”

Jitandra’s heart sank into black despair even as his veins boiled in rage. He couldn’t hear the roaring of the nobles, or feel the rough grip of the soldiers as they grabbed him and pulled him away from Aadab. He was only aware of her eyes. They were as vibrant and mesmerizing as they had been on their wedding day. But this time they were moist, and her pupils were doors into an abyss of sadness.

As the knife neared Jitandra’s throat, to force life from his body before it was hung up in the city square, one word throbbed in his head with every throb of his pulse. Justice. Justice. Justice.

“I am but a simple farmer, just these three months married,” he whispered to no one.

In defense of small government

I don’t usually talk about government and politics. However, I’ll venture there today with a claim: Small, limited government is essential to liberty. Why? I suggest that it is the embodiment of the best option out of the following three.

Some of us rule
We all rule
None of us rules

Option 1. Some of us rule (totalitarianism, monarchy etc. )
The undesirability of this option needs little explanation to our society, drenched as we are in the language of equality and tolerance. Out of “some of us rule” comes order, but also the undesirable stratification of society into classes, slave-owner relationships, and general oppression/suppression.

Option 2. We all rule (communism, pure democracy etc.)
These systems are the best option in a world where man is fundamentally a generous and others-centered creature. But alas, he is not. The masses cannot and will not rule themselves – leaders will coalesce. “We all rule” works for a little while, but all too quickly slides, as if on a smooth inclined plane, down into “Some of us rule.” A system that relies on man voluntarily helping his neighbor for the “common good” ends in the domination of those who have the responsibility of defining and managing this common good.

My Chinese classmate tells me that even the high communist language of China has beneath it today the unquestioned rule of the ~80 million members of the “party” over the many other millions who dare not disagree with them. No one is content, he tells me, but no one dares say so.

Big Brother always gets too big for his britches. That is not liberty.

Option 3. None of us rules (constitutional republic)
The only satisfactory conclusion is really one of stalemate: the only way to maintain our liberties is if nobody gets the reins all to themselves.Why? Basic premise of human nature: Man is primarily motivated by his own self-interest. Thus the ideal government is one in which checks and balances distribute power in such a way that every person and group’s self-interest checks the self-interest of every other group. This is the only way to keep certain groups from gradually accumulating and wielding power over other groups. Man’s selfishness can play off itself and keep everything relatively fair. (I’m not good at holding myself accountable, but I’m quite good at holding you accountable.)

Checks and balances

It’s the basic idea behind capitalism, too: The best way to get everyone to be productive is to let him reap the benefits of his work, because men are interested primarily in their own benefit. If a man sees he can get benefits without working (e.g. welfare) or that working more than a certain level will not bring additional benefit (e.g. taxation of income over a given cap), his productivity will decrease.

The U.S. was remarkable in being the first country to achieve this. However, having become quite fat in our abundance, and we are in danger of forgetting the value and price of this liberty. Compare the cycle of a civilization, attributed to Alexander Tyler:

From bondage to spiritual faith;
From spiritual faith to great courage;
From courage to liberty;
From liberty to abundance;
From abundance to complacency;
From complacency to apathy;
From apathy to dependence;
From dependence back into bondage.

I’d say we’re cresting the hill of complacency now, into the yawning abyss of apathy. Apathy says, “Okay, Mr. Leader, you just go ahead and take care of everything. You got this.” Pretty soon, we become dependent on Mr. Leader, and we forget how to manage our own liberties. He who cannot lead himself quickly becomes bound to the one who can.

A none-of-us-rules government would be a small government that interfered minimally in the functions of society. It would uphold the Bill of Rights and the Constitution, and operate within their borders. It would keep the onus of exercising liberty, with its rights and responsibilities, on the American people themselves, instead of assuming it. Ultimately, it says to the apathetic American, “I will not rule you, you must rule yourself. Come, pick yourself up, remember your liberty! I will not do it for you.”

Do we the people want to govern ourselves or to be governed? If we claim our rights, the government will yet give them to us; but if we do nothing, there is coming a day when it may be too late.

“Meditation on the Third Commandment” (C.S. Lewis, 1941)

“Meditation on the Third Commandment”
(C.S. Lewis, 1941)