Copyright © 1998 by Stephen S. Bilynskyj
A number of years ago I sat in a gathering of pastors and listened to a hospital chaplain offer us a list of guidelines for medical ethics. His primary concern was helping people make difficult decisions. He talked about terminal illness, complicated pregnancy, mental incapacity and other situations where a patient or a relative of a patient must make the sort of choice that goes beyond the sheer medical information.
The chaplain began to list his guidelines for us on a marker board. For the very first one, the one that came before everything else, he wrote down one word: "Autonomy." He explained that every patient or relative acting for a patient must be absolutely free to choose a course of action without being influenced or persuaded by anyone else. Regardless of a doctor’s or a nurse’s or a pastor’s own convictions about what might be right or wrong, a terminally ill man in their care should decide for himself how to die. A pregnant woman must make her own choice about whether to give birth. And so on. The starting point of the ethic we were offered was that everyone must do as he or she sees fit.
That chaplain’s ethic was biblical. The words that end the book of Judges appear also in the sixth verse of chapter 17: "everyone did as he saw fit." The writer of the book offers them as the frame of the last section of the book, his concluding description of how the people of Israel lived in that time. What I was hearing in the auditorium of a modern hospital was the ethic of ancient Israel during the time of the judges.
Now I will guess that at least some of us are wondering what might be wrong with what I heard from the chaplain. It only seems right to people like us, who have grown up in a country and in a time where individual freedom is our most cherished possession. Moreover, you may also be in agreement with the other part of the last verse of Judges. The writer links the fact that they all made their own choices with the absence of government. "In those days Israel had no king; everyone did as he saw fit." "Exactly," we might say, "the less government the better, so that we can do whatever we choose."
You might expect me to say that doing whatever we see fit is a bad idea because I can point to how bad it all turns out in Judges. Rape and civil war and cold-blooded genocide don’t make a very good case for individual autonomy. I could very easily argue that they needed government to straighten out the mess they were in. Only a firm ruler could get these immoral, violent people into line.
On the other hand, no matter how abhorrent their actions, what else could these people have done? By the time we get to chapter 21 of Judges, they do not have any good choices. Nothing is black and white. All the options are gray. If you haven’t already, go back this week and read chapters 19, 20 and 21. They tell how a Levite traveling with his concubine stops for a night in Gibeah, a town within the borders of the tribe of Benjamin. Not only do the townspeople refuse them hospitality, a sin in itself, they then storm the house where they do find shelter and call for the Levite so they can rape him. He escapes by throwing them his concubine, whom they rape and leave dead. Already we are starting to see right and wrong blurring here. The Levite looks almost as guilty as the rapists.
Next, the Levite sends a call to all the tribes, asking for justice. The other tribes ask the Benjamites to deal with the people of the town of Gibeah. They refuse. The result is a civil war in which all the rest of Israel slaughters everyone in the tribe of Benjamin including women and children, all except six hundred men.
Then, in chapter 21, the tribes of Israel gather together and realize that something terrible has happened. They have nearly exterminated one of the twelve tribes. What is more, they have taken an oath before God not to let their women marry anyone from the tribe of Benjamin. So if they do nothing, the Benjamites will become extinct. They have a choice to break an oath or let the genocide be complete. Instead, they decide to murder another town. They select Jabesh Gilead because those people broke another oath. They sent twelve thousand men to murder everyone there, except the marriageable women. That nets them four hundred brides for Benjamin, but leaves them still two hundred short.
The last chapter of this sad saga is a bit of casuistry. They cannot give their women to the men of Benjamin. So they agree to let them be taken. At the next Feast of Tabernacles at a place called Shiloh, when women are dancing in the vineyards, the remaining Benjamites should hide among the vines. When opportunity strikes each man should grab himself a new wife and carry her off. So Benjamin gets the other two hundred wives and technically the oath is not broken. But at what price? The story started with one woman getting raped. In effect, it ends with six hundred rapes.
Of course, it is all disgusting. But what were the options? How would you have straightened out such mess? Even if there had been a moral authority in the person of a king, it would not have made the situation any better. Who could possibly decide between all the conflicting values and interests at stake? Better it be the way it was, with each person making an individual choice about what ought to be done. How could anyone else have made the decision for them?
We often say the same sort of thing when we find ourselves in gray situations. Who could possibly have the authority to tell us what to do? You have heard in the news about those two girls switched at birth. Who can decide which family they belong in? You know the debate about safe sex: Hand out condoms in high schools or let children get AIDS. Who is to choose? A teenage girl is pregnant. Keep the baby, place it for adoption, have an abortion? Who can say?
So in the face of all these gray choices, our society has consistently moved more and more in the direction of Judges 21:25. You choose. All your options are gray. But what really counts is that you are free to make your own choice. There is no king, no government, no school, and no church that is any better moral position than you are yourself. It is up to you. Do as you see fit, because that is all anyone can do.
There is a better way. You still have one clear choice. The book of Judges is here in Scripture to make us want to look for it. You do not have to end up like the tribes of Israel, doing what you alone think best, and none of it good. When you are proceeding down a path where every fork offers you a choice between the least of two evils, then you still have one more option. You can get off that path and find a better one. It is not a gray choice at all. It is as black and white as they come. It is the difference between darkness and light.
That is why, in our Gospel reading from Luke 14, that Jesus urged us to count the cost of taking His path. It is the clearest and the costliest decision you will ever have the opportunity to make. It is a choice to leave whatever dim and dark road you are on, and to start down a road toward light.
Living by the ethic of Judges is like being lost in the woods with a flashlight. I’ve been there a time or two. You walk away from camp carrying your light, thinking all is well. You can see where you are going, because your shiny new Boy Scout flashlight keeps you from tripping over roots or walking into branches. You confidently strike out into the dark. However, once you have walked a bit and turn around, you realize that your flashlight does not do that much good. It will not lead you back to camp. In its light every tree looks the same. The path you thought you were on is the same color as the ground around it. All the marks and signs you might have followed in the daylight are lost in the monochrome grayness of your surroundings. You do not know which way to turn.
What I discovered as a boy is that what I needed to do then was to turn off my own light. I needed to extinguish that new flashlight of which I was so proud. It was only then that my eyes adjusted enough that I could look out and see the light of camp and find my way back. And as I headed back I discovered that everything gets clearer as you aim toward the light. The path appears again, the trees look more familiar and less threatening, a sign you missed shows up. Following the larger light, you find your way again.
Trusting Jesus Christ as He is revealed to us in the Bible is the only way to turn away from all those gray options before you. As long as you think you can approach the difficult path of life shining the little flashlight of your own understanding and goodness, you will end up lost. You will likely do just fine for awhile, making good choices, making progress. But like the Israelites and like so many people in our world today, you will end up where everything is gray. The only real hope is to turn out your own little light, quit trying to make all your choices by yourself, and seek out a bigger light.
That is why in the list of ethical guidelines God gave to Israel – you know, we call them the "Ten Commandments" – autonomy or individual freedom does not even make the team. The very first rule on God’s list is a reminder that freedom comes from only one source and that is not personal autonomy. He said, "I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery, you shall have no other gods before me." The ethic of the Bible begins with a call to turn toward the greatest light of all, and to leave behind all those lesser lights which only make things gray.
God’s ethics, therefore, is not so much about rules as it is about being on the right path, the path that leads you to Him. Jesus offered us a few rules, "Don’t hate," "Don’t lust," and "Don’t seek revenge," are some of them. But He talked much, much more in the manner we read in Luke today, about following Him. His greatest concern for you is that you enter into the path of discipleship, letting Him lead you into the light.
Don’t get me wrong. There are rules for us in Scripture. They are rules given by God and by Jesus Christ His Son. We ignore them at our peril. But the rules are like signs marking the path. The important thing is the road you are on. The road signs are there simply to keep you on it. Break one of God’s rules and you can be sure you are about to crash through the guard rail and careen off the road. Yet keeping the rules is still not the primary matter. What you really want is to follow the right road and reach your destination. Once you arrive, all the road signs will be forgotten.
Therefore, we as Christians get our ethics all wrong if we start to believe what people around us are saying, that living a good life is about making choices. If we accept that story, then we will all start switching on our own little lights, trying to illuminate our options enough to see which one looks best. We will spend all our time making lists of rules to follow, with our right to choose between the options at the top of the list. And soon, just like the people in the time of the judges, we will be lost in a bewildering forest of choices which have all turned dull and gray before us.
That is why Scripture never really explains to us how to obey all the rules. God’s Word does not show us perfect people making excellent choices and meeting every requirement on the list. In fact, the Bible shows us only one perfect person, and as you look at Him you see someone who hardly seems concerned about rules at all. He seems so indifferent to the commandments that people kept accusing Him of breaking them. The truth is that He kept all God’s rules, but what really mattered to Jesus was where He was going. He was on God’s road, the road to light and life. And He invites you and me to follow Him.
The rest of the people in the Bible, then, are imperfect men and women who are either on God’s road or on some other way. These people at the end of the book of Judges are examples of those who have wandered away from God’s light and gotten themselves lost. Others show us an example of seeking the Lord and finding a way brightly lit by God’s grace. The very next book in Scripture, the little one called "Ruth," is about a woman who also lived in the time of the judges. She took the path that led her to the Lord, and her story is a wonderful contrast to the preceding one, full of joy and life and light.
I don’t want to be a poor guide. I won’t mislead you. God’s way is not always clear and easy. When you first turn out your own light in the woods, things will almost certainly look darker than when it was on. It takes time for your eyes to adjust and for you to catch a clear glimpse of the light you aiming at. And sometimes on the way you lose your bearing, you lose sight of God’s light directing you. You may once again feel really lost. It can be tempting then to try and turn your own light back on, to start again that business of thinking that you have no king and that you had better just do whatever you see fit.
Remember, though, that you do have a King. You are on the road that leads to His kingdom. Trust and wait for His light to show you the way again. Remember where you are going, and stay on the road, His road. Heed the signs you do see clearly in Scripture and in Christian teaching. Much of the time we don’t take seriously enough what Jesus asked us to do. So do your best to follow His rules. Breaking them will only get you off the track. Just remember that ultimately you are following Jesus Christ, not rules. You are seeking Him, not your own perfection. If you keep Him in mind, you will find your way.
And know this: not all the signs along your way are rules. Some are better. They are bright, glowing stripes of God’s grace marking the true way. One of them is before you this morning on this table. It is the sign of your King’s love for you, reminding you that He gave His life to illumine your road. The body and blood of Jesus Christ were given so that you could find your way. I invite you to follow this sign today, walking forward to the table in faith. As you come, you will also be traveling down His road.
Amen.
Valley Covenant Church
Eugene/Springfield, Oregon
Copyright © 1998 by Stephen S. Bilynskyj