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What’s the Alternative to Relativism?

What kind of moral universe do we inhabit?

One of the big problems in today’s late modern age is a sense that morality is up for grabs, that moral values are relative to each individual, like one’s taste in music or coffee. I have raised questions about this posture through this blog series on The Qualities of Freedom of the Will, where I attempt to apply a hermeneutics of liberation and reconciliation (community healing). Our quest is to discover freedom in the context of responsible relationships and mutual obligations for the common good. I see genuine hope in Canadian philosopher Charles Taylor and his retrieval of the language of the good–within his critical moral realism.  For him, moral reality is given rather than merely constructed. Ethical relativism, on the opposite end of the spectrum, denies that any objective, universal moral properties or principles exist. Such relativism arose in the philosophical context of the dominance of empiricism and naturalism (early modernity) and the rejection of metaphysically abstract universals or transcendentals like Truth, Beauty, and Goodness. Relativism perpetuates the mindset that we know how things really are for all people: i.e., that morals are relative to individuals, cultures, or sub-cultures. Paradoxically, it is a ‘universal claim’ that there are no universal standards of human behaviour. Nietzsche saw very clearly that if there was an end to God and traditional values, then the strong could impose their values on the masses. Domination would be widespread. Thus came his model of the ubermensch (superman) and the ethics of will-to-power.  There is a natural progression from relativism to will-to-power ethics (with the assumption that a human is just another thing in the world to be manipulated). This is why ideologies of various kinds (especially the far right and far left, Fascism and Communism) are so powerful today. Personhood, dignity, and freedom are all under threat in a relativistic world. There are serious personal and social consequences of a commitment to relativistic ethics and morality.

William Golding’s novel Lord of the Flies, which many studied in secondary school, is a graphic, heart-wrenching picture of unrestrained evil, where might makes right and bullying and scapegoating is the accepted social order. A group of boys, marooned on a remote island, are forced to make up their own society, and the results are both shocking and mesmerizing. The most powerful boys asserted domination. The twentieth century has trembled at the great atrocities and abuse of power by those who are without any fear of a transcendent being or any sense of obligation to a code of conduct, higher ideals, or even a set of norms. They operated without moral accountability, except to their own ideology or self-idolatry (malignant narcissism).

Moral philosopher R. Scott Smith argues in his book, In Search of Moral Knowledge, that ethical relativism or moral subjectivism is in fact a bankrupt view of the nature of morality. It fails as a moral theory and a guide to the moral life and civilized society. It results in morally inconsistent and untrustworthy behaviour and a breakdown of the social order. In effect, it leads to the corrosion/corruption of morality itself:

We should not settle for a relativistically based tolerance, since it will not succeed in building a moral society or in helping people be moral. That kind of morality forces us to consider all ideas and ways of life as being equally valid, yet we can know that this is not the case.… Nevertheless, tolerance (as respect  of people as having equal moral value) would make sense if a universal, objective moral basis exists for that equality. (R. S. Smith, In Search of Moral Knowledge, 162)

Yale Professor of Law and History, Samuel Moyn, agrees in his 2015 book, Christian Human Rights, where he reminds us that there was once a Christian understanding of basic rights. Relativism in the twentieth and early twenty-first century has led us into some very dangerous political experiments. Untold billions have been spent on war-making, with severe consequences on human wellbeing. Human rights have been violated in terrible ways; imperialism ran rampant; multiple millions of persons have perished amidst the brutality. Millions died. Need I mention the death camps of German Naziism or the Russian Gulag? The amount of suffering and destruction of property was unprecedented, giving twentieth the legacy the bloodiest century in history.  British journalist Paul Johnson (A History of the Modern World: from 1917 to the 1980s) graphically illustrates the way in which the ethic of will-to-power has flourished in the soil of relativism during the twentieth century. In fact, we may well ask: Do we have one example in history of benevolent leadership without the restraint of traditional morality and the rule of law? Indeed, can we find a historical-political context where the governing authorities who have absolute power (whether king, dictator, tzar, or proletariat leader) actually do not become corrupt and abuse their power? Andy Crouch captures it:

In a Nietzschean world, we are all reduced to waiting for Superman—or, just perhaps, acquiring enough power that we ourselves can thrust back all that resists us, achieving the domination we believe is necessary for the triumph of the good…. The quest to become Superman does not produce strength adequate to master reality–it undermines it. For in his commitment to power as godlike domination over all space and over all other beings, it is idolatry. When idolatry seems to work, it is radically unstable … the injustice that flows from idolatry ultimately ruins not just its victims but its perpetrators. (A. Crouch, 2013, 50, 52)

Relativism and the Quest for a Stable and Free Society

Without a moral plumb line, societies seem headed for personal nihilism or political tyranny. This dilemma was admitted by an atheist blogger: RationalSkepticism.org. The ultimate end point is despair and ugly oppression, propaganda and control from the top (Jason Stanley, How Fascism Works). We get the splendid idolatry of nationalism where a celebrity or the state is worshipped (W. T. Cavanaugh, The Uses of Idolatry, chapter 6.). A subjectivist ethic is no ethic at all and offers no hope for society or for psychologically healthy people’s relationships–it runs from reality and responsibility. It will encourage more people to become sociopathic and narcissistic.

Relativism is very unstable ground for ethics. It offers no motive reason to get along in society, no moral basis for law, no place to appeal when there is a dispute between parties. There entails a loss of human rights and freedoms. If an individual truly lives on the assumption of moral relativism, no one will trust them or like them. That says a lot at a practical level. It encourages élitism, arrogance, and cheating. We need much higher standards to arbitrate the variety of human desires and goals. Robust morality must address the proper resolution of conflicts and call unjust behaviour to account, as in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights which has produced so much good in the world. We have to treat others like they really matter, like they are worthy of love and respect (imago Dei). Moral relativism leads us into some frightening conclusions (amidst its moral ambivalence)–intellectually, sociologically, and experientially. We must ask whether there is not another paradigm that can be more intellectually sound, sane, and just for all, something that will lead to better human flourishing . Despite its popularity (more than 50% of Americans; many college students) and its role as an opiate for the unreflective masses, relativism is both incoherent and dangerous. It corrupts society and prepares the way for bullies to assert their leadership, boosting injustice and challenging liberal democracy. Unscrupulous people take advantage of it all the time.

I agree with Charles Taylor that beliefs are not merely objective, and that one is subjectively tied in with her beliefs (C. Taylor, Sources of the Self). Our value convictions are partly a matter of resonance, and they are precious to us, to our identity and sense of self. We own them personally. Think of the amazing passion of Greta Thurnberg on saving the planet from climate disasters. But they are not as arbitrary as some often superficially claim. There is both an objective and subjective pole of the moral good. Charles Taylor as stated in an earlier post is a falsifiable moral realist. What he disavows is the conclusion that all moral beliefs are of equal value or strictly relative to the individual or the culture at hand, such that we cannot call them to account. This view has been shown to be unworkable and riddled with a nasty trail of racism, Dionysian cruelty, and violence. All humans, all leaders, all cultures are accountable to high standards, to high virtue, to responsible behaviour and speech. It seems counter-cultural today, but the conviction this blog series demonstrates and promotes is that we do not have a right to our own individual morality (radical autonomy/autonomos), unless we live on a desert island far from all other human beings. That view has proven to be a fantasy, socially inadequate, and vacuous: hollowing out the self, producing a thin ineffectual self with a tepid, self-centred character. In this sense, we were not born to be happy–to just live out of our own desires of self-fulfilment.

Some values have a better fitness with what we aspire to be as a human community and as high-minded individuals. They are nobler, more life-nurturing, pro-human, pro-justice, and pro-community. Other values are lower, demeaning, death-dealing, repressive of others, disrespectful towards minorities or the marginalized. Many people indeed are not living up to their full potential. I argue that the way forward is a theo-anthropological move, which involves a recovery of the ancient idea of the good as championed by philosopher Charles Taylor. He offers a more fully nuanced version of moral realism than many. Taylor believes, against the grain of much contemporary moral philosophy and the current moral revolution, that there is a hierarchy of values well worth attending to. A number of top moral and anthropological scholars agree with him (Nicholas Wolterstorff, Miraslov Volf, Richard J. Mouw, J. Budziszewski, Alasdair McIntyre, R. Scott Smith, Oliver O’Donovan, Nigel Biggar, D. Stephen Long).  If ethical relativism were correct, there could be no such thing as moral growth or purpose in culture or in a person’s life. But we know instinctively that it is not appropriate to remain childish and self-centred into our thirties. Everything would settle down to the lowest common denominator of relational chaos, and mutually assured destruction. Narrative growth, discussed in Blog 8 of this series, would be stifled. David Brooks (The Road to Character) argues convincingly that moral growth is indeed necessary for moral health and the future of sound leadership. To have improvement, one must have a standard of rightness or goodness by which to judge and discern the difference in moral values, and to expose moral vices, calling them to account. Nietzsche and Weber do not get the last word on our values.

It is my conviction that objects and healthy relationships have independent existence and innate value, that there is something true, good, and beautiful about the world and people, despite what we may want to think (realism). Life is hard and there is a  proper and responsible way to live together unselfishly in late modernity. Plurality of convictions do exist in today’s world, and we need patience with each other, but that observation definitely need not imply complete relativism, nor does it imply that one should slide into personal subjectivism. It does mean that we have to drill down in understanding different ethical frameworks and worldview (social imaginary) options. We have to critically separate the true and authentic, noble and integrated, from that which makes us feel good, that which we desire, or even that on which we were raised. Philosopher Arthur Holmes says it well:

Neither the plurality of different worldview perspectives nor the different elaborations given any one perspective imply that worldviews are entirely relative. Truth-claims can still be made and ways must be found for evaluating the claim that a certain worldview is objectively true.

Holmes is saying that it is possible to wisely discern truth, move towards it, embrace it. It is vitally important that we do so. Ethical systems are always tied to worldviews or what Taylor calls a way of seeing and experiencing the world, a social imaginary. Ethical relativism is actually tied into materialistic naturalism, a worldview outlook that honest atheist Thomas Nagel (Mind and Cosmos) says is inadequate for understanding or living the moral life. It cannot even offer proper explanatory gravitas for the complex phenomenon that is human morality. We all need a posture, a world-life perspective or story, to give structure and meaning to our lives and our society, and to set appropriate moral goals. Thus, worldview discernment is foundational to finding a way forward out of corrupt, painful, and debilitating relativism. We need to test our beliefs on the anvil of reality and be open for correction and for transformation to a better outlook. Indeed, we need a better narrative or plausibility structure.

What would it look like to paint an alternative to Nietzsche’s dark vision of bodies in competition?

The real danger, the real intellectual misfit here is ontological subjectivity. This is the conviction that an object or idea has no reality outside a person’s mind or heart. In this view, truth lacks a transcendent quality; it is all within me, according to my choice. Truth depends on me and my take on reality. This is the strict social constructionist view which we find in Neo-Nietzschean philosophers like Michel Foucault. Relativism reduces ethics to perceived experience. In fact, humans are subjectively involved in coming to know the world, but there must be a world objectively there and a community/culture to dialogue with, in order for the knowledge to emerge. Just believing something does not make it so. That can be nothing more than fantasy, fideism, hypocrisy, or cowardice. We must check our motives. There are important objective criteria which are used to critically examine the validity or plausibility of a worldview (James Sire, The Universe Next Door).

There are three dominant, competing worldview options in the early twenty-first century in the West: Naturalism (atheism/materialism), Pantheism, and Christian Theism. Naturalism and Theism are the two key competitors. A relativistic view of morality derives either from Naturalism or Pantheism. The Naturalist view holds that there is no God, and therefore no derived transcendent source of right and wrong, no transcendent goodness from which to derive or define human goods, pursue righteousness, or the common social good. Thus, moral choices are individualistic and subjective (or made by a group ruled by an élite). Again, philosopher Thomas Nagel (Mind and Cosmos), although an atheist, does not believe that naturalism can offer the explanatory power necessary for what we know as human ethics. Richard Dawkins and Sam Harris are wrong at a fundamental level: atheistic scientism and a stable moral society (where we treat each other fairly) are incompatible (J. D. Hunter & P. Nedelisky, Science and the Good). Honoured Christian philosopher Alvin Plantinga added his critique to this view in Where the Conflict Really Lies. Pantheism promotes the idea that good and evil are part of the system, the colours of life, even part of god or ultimate reality (good & evil are one). This makes moral discernment really tough, if not impossible. The waters become quite murky. That doesn’t seem like the way to go for wisdom on human relations either.

Tim Keller has an important insight at this juncture. I paraphrase: “All worldviews are embedded in a combination of reason, faith, emotions, and a particular social context. No one is neutral philosophically, spiritually, or ethically. To move from one social imaginary to another means moving from one standard set of beliefs to another, one community of faith to another, one standard of orthodoxy and heresy to another. For example, it is a huge leap of faith from the doctrine of atheism to humanism.” We have to judge their plausibility and their consequences/outcomes. This video below contains quite a good dialogue at Google on the topic.

Christian Theism, on the other hand, roots its ethical framework in the infinite goodness of personal God, who transcends human and creational reality. God is not just another entity in the world, but the very ground of being, the Creator of all things. In this scenario/paradigm, the good is sourced in a God who is infinite goodness in a person. Ethics, including the capital virtues, is oriented to what pleases God and benefits one’s fellow humans (D. Stephen Long, The Goodness of God). Humans are called to mediate this goodness to society and to the biosphere through good stewardship and practice of the virtues (righteousness, fruits of the Spirit, 2 Peter 1:3-11). Evil is that which detracts people from these goals and twists the true, perverts the beautiful and the good. It divides people via selfishness, covetousness, pride, hatred, and greed among other capital vices. It is often a matter of misplaced loves: finding love in all the wrong places or meeting one’s needs/longings/filling that existential void in all the wrong ways. This often happens at the direct expense of others, even those we love and admire. Evil is cowardly, irresponsible behaviour and it should be resisted. It divides us, alienates us from one another, destroys precious lives.

Expressing late nineteenth century ambivalence about God and ethics, atheist existentialist Albert Camus recognized the need for God regarding the social good. He realized the consequences of losing God in moral discourse, even though he himself believed that no God was available to us. In his book, The Rebel, Camus writes:

When man submits God to moral judgement he kills Him in his own heart. And then what is the basis of morality? God is denied in the name of justice, but can the idea of justice be understood without the idea of God?

His thoughts were ironically prophetic. Tom Holland has continued this theme today in his book Dominion. Many are unaware of the dire cultural consequences of rejecting God, denying God’s existence. The rejection of God has proved a terrible mistake for the world, producing incipient narcissism, self-trivialization, and despair. It leads to various forms of self-destruction/self-harm and destruction of others through terrible violence and theft. It has resulted in our late capitalist obsession with productivity, efficiency, and consumption, acquisitiveness and greed that so dominates the consumer economy (William Cavanaugh, The Uses of Idolatry). Cavanaugh sees the consumer economy as a kind of religion or secular worship. Many people still long for God and the higher goods deep within to help reshape human relations even though they cannot personally understand how to believe in his existence once again. Many people today find that they miss God deeply, the idea of agape love and the economy of grace, a world where charity and generosity are the dominant aspirations for human wellbeing. What kind of moral universe do we want to inhabit going forward?

What are the robust sources of morality in our day?

At its heart, Christianity is concerned about an historical event/nrrative: the Jesus Story. It is actually based on a series of events culminating in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. The story is mediated through the Bible and a living community of faith that has grown and flourished for two thousand years. It has roots in Judaism and the Hebrew prophets, the calling of Abraham and Moses, the wisdom of the Psalms. This is public information available for investigation and scrutiny by anyone interested (Leslie Newbigin). Embodied in Jesus is a fresh, livable and life-giving ethic: concern for the marginalized, for women and children, the poor and weak, just political relationships and human rights, reconciliation and love for enemies, economic equality of opportunity (Jim Wallis, The (Un)Common Good). Jesus revealed a strong vision for humanity that changed the ancient world in fundamental ways. In Jesus, we find a major truth ­claim: he claimed to be God in human flesh (John 14:6 and 7), in effect to be the Transcendent Good Embodied in a Person, showing us by example how the compassionate/good life could be lived. The incarnation is a core belief in Christianity. It is articulated in the Sermon on the Mount which was highly appreciated by social reformers like Ghandi and Martin Luther King Jr. This can and should be tested for its authenticity and robustness. If it is correct, gripping and authentic, it has the deepest possible relevance to people today, offering rich hope for personal transformation. Christians believe that his call and invitation is to all humans from all backgrounds and religions and viewpoints to explore a higher ethic and a healthier humanism (Jens Zimmermann, Incarnational Humanism). It is a universal invitation to the existential depths of a person. Tim Keller claims that Christianity makes better sense of the world than the alternatives because it can account for more of the phenomena; more of human complexity and identity; more cultural diversity; more of our experiences of longing, fullness and hope; and more of our desire for justice, satisfaction and wholeness (T. Keller, Making Sense of God). The biblical story is a living and active agent of humanization for so many people today (Dr. Jordan Peterson). It provides a great set of lenses by which to understand culture and ourselves at depth. It connects.

The Relevance Question, although very important, should always be secondary to the truth question. Pragmatism can block the full truth of a situation, and cloud our judgment. We become confused intellectually, spiritually, and morally. Humans share more basic values across cultures and centuries than is often perceived, and have quite similar aspirations for their children. Oxford literary scholar C. S. Lewis argues very strongly in his important book The Abolition of Man for what he calls the “Tao” or the doctrine of objective, shared values in all cultures around the world, the belief that certain attitudes are really true and others really false, to the kind of thing the universe is and the kind of beings that we humans are. Dennis Danielson did a modern rewrite (The Tao of Right & Wrong) of the ideas of Lewis in this book. There is truth, as he sees it, that transcends cultural plurality, individual bias or choice. He sees in the Tao a way to avoid the abyss of relativism with its consequential nihilism/nothingness. Those who aspire to high values (justice, respect, concern for family, sexual fidelity, consistent behaviour, covenant, honest business practices, just government, truthfulness, compassion, mercy) do have something important in common and this can offer support to others who don’t yet see such a vision, or believe that it is possible. All people need inspiration from moral exemplars who embody such high ideals and standards of behaviour.

The question of the good takes us into deeper reflection on our identity and what makes us truly human. The questions raised within the Jewish-Christian scriptures help us discern the foundations of who we are and how we might live a kind, dignified, sane, and noble communal existence. There is something intrinsically personal about the nature of obligation, the value of persons. Moral claims are made by someone within a web of obligations, and grounded in some objective value. All of us want to be treated with dignity and respect. Our freedom needs the content and moral horizon of the good that Taylor writes about in order to provide meaning that will endure the stressors of life and provide a thick identity.

Love transfigures power. Absolute love transfigures absolute power. And power transfigured by love is the power that made and saves the world (This is the Biblical Narrative in Essence).

Psychologist Erich Fromm has some profound insight on moral decision-making:

“Our capacity to choose changes constantly with our practice of life. The longer we continue to make the wrong decisions, the more our heart hardens; the more often we make the right decisions, the more our heart softens–or perhaps comes alive…. Each step in life which increases my self-confidence, my integrity, my courage, my conviction, also increases my capacity to choose the desirable alternative…. Each act of surrender and cowardice weakens me, opens the path for more surrender, and eventually freedom is lost.”

Step up with Courage for the Good and the Common Good.

Instead of the toxic opioid of relativism that confuses us and puts us to sleep morally, there exists a tremendous need for the courage of deep, positive conviction. Society will not avoid anarchy if an appropriate moral and spiritual source and glue is not found (Brad Gregory, The Unintended Reformation). It has to be more substantial than consumerism or personal desire, self-interest or appetite, or just fighting for my interests and individual rights. We need a platform for healthy debate and substantial answers to real moral and ethical questions, as sociologist Jurgen Habermas adjures us: “It is not first technology, but rather moral decision-making, that will determine what kind of future we will have.” It must be grounded in the love of one’s neighbour and human generosity and care for the weak and the vulnerable, rather than acquisition of the most wealth and pleasurable experiences possible (radical expressivism and self-indulgence).

What is the deepest truth about the world? Is the deepest truth a struggle for mastery and domination? Or is the deepest truth collaboration, cooperation, and ultimately love? Andy Crouch, Playing God.

People need a proper paradigm, a moral map, to learn how to live from the inside out according to their higher self, higher motives of truth, beauty, and goodness that promote good personhood, longevity for the human race and for the planet. The book Integrity by Henry Cloud reinforces this theme. Ethical relativism leads down a dark path to ideology, and into the abyss of nihilism. Christian principles (Sermon on the Mount; Romans 12 and Ephesians 4 and 5 idea of giftedness, agape love, the pedagogy of charity) offer the kind of parameters and stability that we need to value others highly, mentor our children, make the tough choices in life and to build a better world, a better moral infrastructure for civil political discourse. We can face head on some of our toughest ethical and political challenges (Glenn Tinder, The Political Meaning of Christianity). We ignore the moral and spiritual insights of Christianity to our own peril. Nobody is perfect or always consistent, but responsible freedom is the quality of attitude we need for a healthy local and world community, a just, non-violent, functional society which creates opportunities for all, not just the wealthy and privileged. I believe at a deep level and from experience that humans will flourishing and experience joy in new ways as they discover and live by and through high, God-inspired principles. Let me close with one more quote from wise author Andy Crouch:

All true beings strive to create room for more being and to expand its power in the creation of flourishing environments for variety and life, and to thrust back the chaos that limits true being. In doing so it creates other bodies and invites them into mutual creation and tending to the world, building relationships where there had been none: thus they then cooperate together in creating more power for more creation. And the process goes on. There is a kind of being that delights in sharing space and a deeper, truer being that is able to create more than enough space–room for more being. (A. Crouch, 2013, 51)

Application to Responsible Moral Living: Mentally Strong People Do These Things Consistently

1. Reflect on their progress; they are willing to pivot to improve outcomes; they develop healthy self-critical skills.

2. Tolerate discomfort, fear and even suffering for the long goal. They are willing to take the necessary, but not foolish, risks to grow or improve the world.

3. They think big; think productively; watch for new opportunities; open doors; associate with eagles.

4. Examine their core beliefs with a view to staying in touch with reality, and doing what is best for others as well. They take time out to rest and reflect on what is really important in life, to gain clarity, peace, and composure. They care for their family and friends and don’t let work devour them or become an idol.

5. They do not play the victim or complain about circumstances or colleagues; they are prepared to work and succeed on their own merits, while being open to grace and gifts from others who like their project and vision. They have staying power (resilience) because they know what they want and are bigger than (transcend) their problems. They are reliable, accountable, fruitful people.

6. Practice kindness and discretion; they manage emotions, thoughts and behaviour despite success or failures of the moment. They accept full responsibility for their past behaviour (good or bad) and are willing to reconcile wherever possible.

7. They are outrageously generous to the less fortunate and care about and celebrate the success of others.

8. They are constantly learning new things that improve their skill set and make themselves into better human beings. They aspire to wholeness and balance.

9. Stay out of debt which enslaves, oppresses, and depresses many people; it can even lead to crime and bankruptcy. They take care of their health, get exercise, eat well, and get regular medical checkups.

10. Develop healthy habits: prayer, Bible reading, worship, compassion, good friendships, community building. They are more than willing to go the extra mile to help others.

~Gordon E. Carkner PhD, Philosophical Theology, University of Wales. Meta-Educator with UBC Postgrad Students, Author, Blogger, YouTube Webinars and Lectures

See Gordon’s newest book on the renewal of culture: Towards an Incarnational Spiritual Culture: Grounding Our identity in Christ, Wipf & Stock, 2024; and his recent YouTube Video “Rethinking identity Through the Lens of Incarnation” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hRpC9f0J6WM.

W. T. Cavanaugh Critiques Consumer Culture

Bibliography

Applebaum, A. (2024). Autocracy Inc.: The Dictators Who Want to Run the World. Penguin.

Begbie, J. (2023). Abundantly More: The Theological promise of the Arts in a Reductionist Age. Baker Academic.

Cavanaugh, W.T. (2024). The Uses of Idolatry. Oxford University Press.

Crawford, M. B. (2015). The World Beyond Your Head: On Becoming an Individual in an Age of Distraction. New York: Farrar, Strauss & Giroux.

Crouch, A. (2013). Playing God: Redeeming the Gift of Power. IVP.

Gregory, B. S. (2012). The Unintended Reformation: How a Religious Revolution Secularized Society. Harvard University Press.

Holland, T. (2019). Dominion: How the Christian Revolution Remade the World. Basic Books.

Hunter, J.D. & Nedelisky, P. (2018). Science & the Good: The Tragic Quest for the Foundations of Morality. Yale University Press.

Johnson, P. (1983). The History of the Modern World from 1917 to the 1990s. Weidenfeld and Nicolson.

Keller, T. (2016). Making Sense of God: An Invitation to the Skeptical.

Long, D. S. (2001). The Goodness of God: Theology, Church and the Social Order.

Moyne, S. (2015). Christian Human Rights. University of Pennsylvania Press.

Smith, R. S. (2014).  In Search of Moral Knowledge: Overcoming the Fact-Value Dichotomy. IVP Academic.

Taylor, C. (1989). Sources of the Self: the Making of the Modern Identity. Harvard University Press.

Tinder, G. (1991). The Political Meaning of Christianity: The Prophetic Stance. Harper San Francisco.

Wallis, J. (2013). The (Un)Common Good: How the Gospel Brings Hope to a World Divided. Brazos

Zimmermann, J. (2012). Incarnational Humanism: A Philosophy of Culture for the Church in the World. IVP Academic. See also 2024 edition by Regent Publishing.

David Bentley Hart on Ethics https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lC2SpvYboC

Further Resources on Morality & Ethics

Oxford Ethics Scholars: Oliver O’Donovan and Nigel Biggar

Bibliography on Scriptural Ethics by James T. Bretzke, S.J., S.T.D., Professor of Moral Theology, Boston College

Talks on Alternatives to Relativism by Jerry Root, Wheaton College : http://www.cslewis.org

John E. Hare at Yale, The Moral Gap: Kantian Ethics, Human Limits and God’s Assistance. OUP

Alasdair McIntyre, Three Versions of Moral Inquiry.

J. Budziszewski, Written on the Heart: the case for natural law. (IVP, 1997)

Narrative Contours of the Free & Responsible Moral Self

What is My Story?

We continue our quest to reflect deeply on the moral self with Charles Taylor, seeking wisdom for cultural and personal renewal. But how is our freedom situated in order to avoid chaos in our life? In his articulation of moral mapping, Taylor looks to narrative depth as a defining feature of the self, identity, and agency. Narrative is very consequential to the stability and continuity of the healthy individual over time. This dimension is in the shape of a personal quest. Taylor acquires this notion of self involved in a narrative quest from Alasdair MacIntyre (C. Taylor, 1989, 17, 48). MacIntyre writes: “The unity of a human life is the unity of a narrative quest” (A. MacIntyre, 1984, 219). Narration of the quest for the good allows one to discover a unity amidst the diversity of goods that demand one’s attention. The continuity in the self is a necessary part of a life lived well in moral space. Taylor sees narrative as a deep structure (a temporal depth) in his thick concept of self, adding another texture to its communal and linguistic richness of moral language. The good is more than a concept outside the self, an ideal of life lived well, or a virtue in the sky. It is something embodied/incarnated, embedded in a life, carried in one’s story and the story of one’s community. Narrative community is an important way to understand and mediate the good. Taylor (1989) writes:

This sense of the good has to be woven into my understanding of my life as an unfolding story…. Making sense of my life as a story is not an optional extra…. There is a space of questions which only a coherent narrative can answer. (C. Taylor, 1989, 47) 

The key issue here for Taylor is the unity and past-present-future continuity of a life, over against a strong focus of the self-as-discontinuity promoted by Michel Foucault, where the quest is to get free of oneself, to get free of societal influences and one’s past. Foucault focuses on ‘freedom from’ obligations and ties to the other; Taylor focus on ‘freedom to’ assist the other, with a view to mutual growth and a better society.

The movement for Foucault is towards the ever-new, aesthetic, Romantic, re-invented self, a self which dislikes vulnerability, and tries to avoid being known by others, wedging itself free from history and community. For him and his ideology of care of self, narrative depth is not a priority, and there is a minimal interest in continuity of life with the past. Foucault is very future-oriented, he desires to escape the self of ‘oppressive history’, the normalized self. Taylor disagrees with this extreme approach, believing that one’s story, properly understood, is an essential and highly valued part of one’s identity. Thus, for him it becomes relevant to ask, “What has ‘shaped me thus far?” and “What direction is my life taking in terms of the good?”, “Does my life have weight and substance?” (C. Taylor, 1989, 50). Taylor suggests that a healthy self asks these important questions about the span of one’s life. He is not only interested in the immediate present, bemoaning the past, or escaping the painful past into a fantastic future of one’s own creation: “My sense of the good has to be woven into my life as an unfolding story” (C. Taylor, 1989, 47). This also includes a sense of calling. The pressing question between Taylor and Foucault is: What is the way to substantial freedom, to healthy character of freedom? Is it denial or deconstruction of the burdensome past, or is it fathoming one’s narrative depth of identity and marking out the trajectory of one’s narrative quest, in order to make sense of one’s story? Meaning of one’s life is at the heart of the narrative quest. Taylor would agree with counsellors and psychiatrists who respect the nuances of a person’s broken past/trauma in their therapy. Otherwise, the client is paralyzed/emotionally frozen from the start. We see this played out dramatically in the Netflix Series Transplant. A Syrian doctor emigrated to Toronto is experiencing many flashbacks to the war in Syria and the loss of his parents. The issues are deep and painful.

We dare not let our lives be reduced to a log thrown up onto the beach.

In this argument for narrative dimensions of the self, Taylor also draws on Paul Ricoeur (P. Ricoeur, 1992, 113-68) who has written on the important difference between ipse and idem-identity. Idem-identity refers to the objective stability of one’s identity (character) over time (read as a succession of moments) and outside time, character traits that don’t change with time. One might call it the ‘what’ of identity. Ipse-identity is more fluid and dynamic, as per one’s personal identity as an unfolding character in a novel–it is more future oriented. Ipse is the ‘who’ of identity. It develops over time and with experience and education in the temporal becoming of the self. One is a different self after an undergraduate degree, or the birth of one’s first child, for example. The narrative is carried through memory and anticipation, and linked with temporality. Crucial to ipse-identity is the ongoing integration of past, present, and future in a unified fashion, crucial to a healthy narrative unity (C. Taylor, 1989, 50). Ricoeur believes that narrative is the key genre for description of the self in time and space. The dialectic between ipse and idem identity is rooted in narrative. Telling one’s story is being able to track the dynamic relation of character and action over the course of one’s life.

There are two significant implications of these two features of identity through time. One is the possibility of the future as different from the present and past, also the possibility of redeeming the past, to make it a part of the positive meaning of one’s life story (C. Taylor, 1989, 51). Recently, I heard a person of thirty-something years say that he hates his parents and wants nothing to do with them. This is tragic! Taylor would encourage this person to seek out a fresh interpretation of, for instance, his suffering, parental neglect, hurts, and disappointments. Where is forgiveness in all this turmoil and angst? Narrative depth does not allow for such a discontinuity with the past, a refusal of past identity or origins. Taylor cautions against avoidance of/rejection of the past: 

To repudiate my childhood as unredeemable in this sense is to accept a kind of mutilation as a person; it is to fail to meet the full challenge involved in making sense of my life. This is the sense in which it is not up for arbitrary determination what the temporal limits of my personhood are. (C. Taylor, 1989, 51) 

This is deeply profound and true. The past, grappling with the meaning of the past, seeking healing from past hurts and failures, is vital to a healthy, resilient , stable identity. A whole culture (we in the West) can also cut itself off from its own past, to its detriment (Tom Holland, Dominion).

Taylor agrees with Foucault that it makes sense to set a future trajectory for one’s life, to project/prospect a future story, to have what MacIntyre calls ‘a quest’. This promotes the sense that one’s life has direction and a mission, rather than just working until exhaustion. Taylor says,

Because we cannot but orient ourselves to the good, and thus determine our place relative to it and hence the direction of our lives, we must inescapably understand our lives in narrative form, as a ‘quest’. (C. Taylor, 1989, 51, 52) 

This quest requires a telos or goal. For this to be effective of change, some knowledge of the good is required. Taylor believes in narrative in the strong sense—a structure inherent in human experience and action, narrative as a human given, part of reflection and self-interpretation in the moral animal. One begins to experience transcendence above the circumstances and struggles of one’s life. This narrative is embedded in community where one is accountable to other such narratives. This adds depth to our relationships. Taylor sees these conditions as connected facets of the same reality.

There is, in Foucault’s constitution or discovery of self, the will to escape the past, especially with his heavy emphasis on the continual, radical reinvention of self from the ground up. He has left us this heritage in the early twenty-first century (Abigail Favale). He does not want to leave a trail in the character of the self; it is a very abstract and limited relationship to narrative. This is where Taylor can both correct and complement Foucault. Taylor presses the question as to whether one can so easily accomplish this ‘great escape’ from one’s past self history There is a deficit in the narrative unity and continuity of the self that is endemic to Foucault’s liberation strategy (freedom from). 

In Taylor’s sense of the moral self, Foucault is suggesting a self-articulation that attempts to escape one’s earlier, historical self, untying the present and future self from a past identity. The assumption is that the earlier self is in the confines or grip of power/knowledge. Foucault’s focus of concern is the becoming of the self (ipse-identity), the re-scripting of the self. There is a common interest, in both Taylor and Foucault, in the future of the self, but a sharp disagreement on the relationship with the past. This reveals a major difference in the possibilities for the future or one’s life. Taylor maintains continuity with the past, with a view to carefully and sensitively resolving past issues. Foucault, on the other hand, maintains a radical break with the past, seeing a need to deconstruct it, escape it, disrupt its hold. One can also attempt to change one’s identity in order to hide from the pain of the past. But, the pursuit of a complete, discontinuous re-invention of self courts psychosis and the lively possibly of doing oneself damage (C. Taylor, 1989, 51). It is easy to imagine that some very extreme (even criminal or anarchistic) forms of life could emerge out of assuming such experimentation. In Taylor, on the other hand, the good is interlaced with narrative and community in order to provide the self with more infrastructure, roots, and depth of meaning. 

What are we to conclude? With Taylor’s vision as a corrective to Foucault, one can build on Foucault’s strengths in the arts of escaping domination with its strong sense of responsibility for one’s self-creativity and self-empowerment, and moderate his extremes (the strongest being social anarchy). In his revolutionary fervour, Foucault seems to miss the point of the idem-identity (the continuous aspect of the moral self) as an essential part of the unifying aspect of one’s character, story, and identity. He dos not have a full grasp of Ricoeur’s concept of narrative. Both philosophers agree that taking responsibility for one’s self-constitution is a mature strategy. Nevertheless, the two disagree dramatically on the importance of a thoroughly situated self with a freedom that is also intimately contextualized in a relationship to the good, to community, and narrative. Taylor does offer insights on the contours of the self to which Foucault was philosophically blind. Ricoeur believed that it was in accountability/carrying out one’s promises that one realizes a true, authentic self. These insights seem to be important in making intelligible sense of the meaning of life, and also in offering a dimension of normative accountability. In general, Foucault over-plays the factor of power to exclusion of the good and a healthy narrative; his moral self is consciously very power-laden. New York Times journalist David Brooks follows more in the intellectual path of Taylor in his fine book on his emergent moral growth over time: The Second Mountain.

~Gordon E. Carkner, PhD Philosophical Theology, University of Wales, Author, Blogger, YouTube Webinar Producer, Meta-Educator with UBC Postgraduate Students.

Application See also a critique of freedom as designated by the consumer culture: https://www.firstthings.com/web-exclusives/2024/09/the-metaphysical-promise-of-the-consumer-society

Brooks, D. (2019). The Second Mountain: The Quest for a Moral Life..

Favale, A. (2022). The Genesis of Gender: a Christian Theory. Ignatius Press.

Holland, T. (2019). Dominion: How the Christian Revolution Remade the World. Basic Books.

MacIntyre, A. (1984). After Virtue: A study in moral theory. (2^nd Edition) Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press 

Ricoeur, P. (1992). Oneself as Another. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 

Taylor, C. (1989). Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern Identity, Harvard University Press.

Thiselton, A. (1995). Interpreting God and the Postmodern Self: On Meaning, Manipulation and Promise. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans.

Side Note from Wikipedia: The theory of narrative identity postulates that individuals form an identity by integrating their life experiences into an internalized, evolving story of the self that provides the individual with a sense of unity and purpose in life. This life narrative integrates one’s reconstructed past, perceived present, and imagined future. Furthermore, this narrative is a story – it has characters, episodes, imagery, a setting, plots, and themes and often follows the traditional model of a story, having a beginning (initiating event), middle (an attempt and a consequence), and an end (denouement). Narrative identity is the focus of interdisciplinary research. In recent decades, a proliferation of psychological research on narrative identity has provided a strong empirical basis for the construct, cutting across the field, including personality psychology, social psychology, developmental and life-span psychology, cognitive psychology, cultural psychology, and clinical and counseling psychology.

My 2020 audio podcast on The Existential Identity Crisis of Millennials:

Sources of the Good (The Constitutive Good)

One further parameter is important to Taylor’s quest for a sound moral ontology–the constitutive good (C. Taylor, 1989, 91-107). The moral framework operates at two levels. At one level, there are the general life goods, those that are valued by the individual self. The life goods are things that make life worth living or the virtues they advocate: such as justice, reason, piety, courage, freedom, moderation, respect. They are features of human life that possess intrinsic worth. At a motivational level, Taylor reveals the vital category of the constitutive good. This good he also calls the moral source. With this emphasis, Taylor wants to recover the category of moral motivation for the self along with the other categories of the good. The constitutive good can be (but not necessarily) transcendent of the self. This source of inspiration and motivation for the good can be outside the self, or higher than the self. Moral sources provide the inspiration or motivation to live in line with life goods. This is especially the case for the dominant hypergood. Taylor (C. Taylor, 1989, 516) writes concerning this phenomenon, “High standards need strong sources.” The moral source empowers the individual self to realize the hypergood in moral life, at the level of both inspiration and praxis. It is also an important source of the self and its agency, or ability to both embrace and do the good. The constitutive good empowers/animates the moral agent and the moral horizon of that agent. It gives to the life goods their quality of goodness (C. Taylor, 1989, 93, 122). Many individuals are not consciously aware of this motivating good, but all of us seek for such inspiration. We do not flourish in the absence of such a source. 

Constitutive Good refers to that which is essential to the particular nature or character of something; it has sustaining, energizing and nurturing power (C. Taylor, 1989, 264); it is the type of good that provides enabling conditions for the realization of strong qualifications in one’s life. Therefore, one’s relationship to such a good is vital to building one’s moral capacity. Knowing such a good also means loving it, wanting to act in accord with it (C. Taylor, 1989, 533-4), growing toward it. Crucial to the position of the constitutive good is that it has independence of the self. To clarify this category, Taylor wrote in an e-mail to me: 

“A constitutive good is a term I used for what I also called moral sources, something the recognition of which can make you stronger or more focused in seeking or doing the good. It’s a matter of motivation, and not just definition of your moral position.” 

This is a vital concept because without the empowerment of the constitutive good, the pursuit of the hypergood could be perceived to be a tremendous burden, even oppressive. Michel Foucault carried a fear of hypergoods for this reason. The source offers hope for benefits of embracing the good, and allowing the hypergood to rule in one’s life. One concludes that it also builds into one’s meaning structure. Taylor wants to broaden the definition of morality to include questions of what one should admire and love. “The constitutive good does more than just define the content of the moral theory. Love of it is what empowers us to be good.” (C. Taylor, 1989, 93). 

Examples of the Constitutive Good A constitutive good tells a person what it is about a human being (sets the value of her existence) that makes her worthy of non-discriminating care and respect. Romantics would consider their source of the good to be in nature: Things are good because they are natural to human beings. Nature inspires and finds a resonance with the self. Theists would take God as a divine, transcendent source of the good: The individual moral agent is inspired to mediate God’s goodness to society, and to take other humans as worthy of respect because they are made in God’s image. Post-Romantics like Foucault would see the self, in itself, as the major source of the good: The autonomous individual makes things good by choice (subjective valuation) or positing and promoting a value (projectivism). A certain value such as creativity, autonomy or style is counted worthy because it is freely chosen, posited, and valorized by Foucault (following Nietzsche) and his schema of the moral self, not because it’s own inherent worth of goodness. Foucault substitutes the category of telos for constitutive good within his four fold schema. It is the desired and imagined ethos, style of life or mode of being (vision of life as a work of art). This is what motivates and inspires the self rather than a source of inspiration from outside the individual self. 

Sources of the good (spiritual sources), according to Taylor, tend to be embedded in a particular culture and function for moral agents of that culture during a certain historical moment or era. Key to his argument is the insight that there have been major shifts in what people take to be the inspirational sources of the good down through the centuries. Modernization, in particular, involves a massive cultural shift with the replacement of one set of views about the self, nature and the good with another. The constitutive good is located differently, and therefore one’s relationship with this good can vary from one era to another. According to Taylor, sources tend to vary from a. those solely external to the self, to b. those both internal and external, to c. those totally internal. As Taylor notes, at one time, the good was wholly external to the self as it was perceived in Plato’s moral ontology of the Forms. Taylor notes the big transition in moral sources in the last four centuries: 

Moving from an epoch in which people could find it plausible to see the order of the cosmos as a moral source, to one in which a very common view presents us a universe which is very neutral, and finds the moral sources in human capacities. (C. Taylor, 1994, 215) 

He takes Plato as his representative of the first, the ontic logos: “The cosmos, ordered by the good, set standards of goodness for human beings, and is properly the object of moral awe and admiration, inspiring us to act rightly.” (C. Taylor, 1994, 215). This is, however, an important distinction: Taylor himself is a strong realist, but not a neo-Platonist: that is, the view that the good is part of the metaphysical structure of the world. Platonic moral realism has been discredited because it leans too heavily on the idea of an ontic logos, a meaningful order. But nor is Taylor, on the other hand, a radical subjectivist. His view of realism lies somewhere between the Romantic subjectivist Rilke, and the Platonic objectivist. He wants to champion both the subjective and objective dimensions of the moral individual, and maintain that there are sources outside and inside the self. Taylor (C. Taylor, 1989, 127-143) notes that Augustine first articulated the whole idea of a reflexivity of self. In this case, the constitutive good is both internal and external, and the relationship is importantly one of both reaching inside and reaching out— from within to gain access to what lies beyond the self in God. In Foucault’s case, as with many other late moderns, the constitutive good is reduced to one that is internal to the self: Here, the source of the good and the self is taken as inside the self and its capacities—revealed through artistic self-expression and self-shaping in a radically reflexive relationship with oneself. Taylor’s great concern about the constitution of the moral self is the loss of outside-the-self moral sources (C. Taylor, 1994, 216). It puts a heavy burden on the individual to inspire himself and decide the value of everything. He considers that the exclusion of outside sources is quite costly (making a deprivation) to the moral self and issues in the draining of moral culture. 

On reflection, why is the constitutive good important? For Taylor, it is vital that one articulate, or make explicit, the constitutive good, in order to understand from where this inspiration or moral empowerment comes. It can also reveal/expose the less honourable or corrupt sources of a certain moral ontology, to expose false or less authentic motivations. Taylor challenges that the dedicated silence of many modern moral outlooks (including that of Foucault) about such external sources of the good prevents these outlooks from fully understanding themselves. They are in effect cut off from their own history. Taylor counts it as a vital task to put moral sources back on the philosophical agenda. It has practical consequences for moral agents. If one does not reflect on one’s moral sources, one is in danger of losing contact with them altogether. This can cause a breakdown/implosion in cultural vision. One is also in danger of losing the life goods which they both ground and empower. Agency must be empowered. Taylor argues for an independent constitutive good that resources the self. Foucault, on the other hand, sees the sources located within the self alone. In his case, sources of the self are merely human constructions, based on radical self-interest. Therefore, they should not have imputed to them too high a worth. 

Thus, there seems to be in Foucault the strong potential of a slide toward celebration of one’s own creative powers and the reduction of sources of the good to one’s individual creative imagination. From Taylor’s perspective, this is a problem, a loss (read deficit) of a significant dimension in moral self-constitution. Sources of the self are severely limited in the quest for self-sufficiency and freedom of action. Taylor gives an example of the resulting problems.

People agree surprisingly well, across great differences of theological and metaphysical belief, about the demands of justice and benevolence, and their importance.… The issue is what sources can support our far-reaching moral commitments to benevolence and justice. (C. Taylor, 1989, 515) 

This is his famous dilemma of modernity—coping with a strong hypergood without strong sources—a dilemma that often leads to cynicism. Taylor, over against Foucault, is not suggesting that one give up on these high ideals for justice, benevolence, and care for the other. Foucault seems to fear that the demands of benevolence can exact a high cost in self-care and self-fulfilment, which may in the end require a payment of either self-negation, or even self-destruction (in his view). Taylor does recognize the cost in the general truth that, 

The highest spiritual ideals and aspirations also threaten to lay the most crushing burdens on humankind. The great spiritual visions [and ideologies] of human history have also been poisoned chalices, the causes of untold misery and even savagery. (C. Taylor, 1989, 516) 

Chantal Delsol (Icarus Fallen) also writes about this sort of fear if the good in the history of twentieth century European wars. Ideologies initially captured people’s imagination, but they led to terrible devastation and death camps. This is especially true of certain Marxist and Fascist political ideologies that reigned in various decades of the twentieth century. Here’s her statement on meaning/spirituality:

To have meaning is to stand for something other than oneself, to establish a link with a value, an idea, an ideal beyond oneself. Life has meaning, for example, for those who spend their lives in search of a cure for a disease, or in the struggle against injustice, or just to show every day that society can be more than a jungle. The link one establishes with this value or idea confers a higher value on life…. A life that has meaning recognizes certain references…. In other words, it is paradoxically worth something only to the extent that it admits itself not to be of supreme value, by recognizing what is worth more than itself, by its ability to organize itself around something else. Everyone will admit that existence is at once both finite and deficient. We consider society to be mediocre, love insufficient, a lifespan too narrow. The person whose life has meaning is the one who, instead of remaining  complacently in the midst of his regrets, decides to strive for perfection, however imperfectly, to express the absolute, even through his own deficiencies, to seek eternity, even if only temporarily. If he spends his life making peace in society or rendering justice to victims, he is effectively pointing, even if it is with a trembling finger, to the existence of peace and justice as such…. By pursuing referents, he points to them. He awkwardly expresses these impalpable, immaterial figures of hope or expectancy…. Individual existence, when it means something, points to its referent through its day-to-day actions and behaviours, the sacrifices it accepts and the risks it dares to take…. The seeker moves forward, all the while wondering, “What is worth serving?” Individual existence structures itself through the call for meaning. Existence is shaped by questions and expectations. (C. Delsol, Icarus Fallen, 4-5)

Morality as benevolence and responsibility for the other can breed self-condemnation for those who feel its import and yet fall short of its ideals. This can challenge the impulses to self-contentment or harmony within oneself. Taylor (C. Taylor, 1989, 516) understands, along with Foucault, some other negative results of an ethic of benevolence without proper moral sources: a. A threatened sense of unworthiness can lead to projection of evil onto the other as happens in racism and bigotry, or b. Some individuals try to recover meaning through political extremisms. 

So Taylor, in dialogue with Foucault, would agree that high ideals can lead to destructive ends, and might do so without a robust constitutive good, but he disagrees that this is the only possible outcome. Not all humanisms are destructive. He believes that it is possible to move towards justice and a better social order, towards just relations, just institutions, and even constitutions. He sees the potential of the good for positive results in the individual and communal realm, especially as the proper sources of such good is realized from outside the self. The pursuit of justice and benevolence, for instance, often does require self-sacrifice, but this self-sacrifice can benefit both the giver and the recipient as in a good marriage or family, and contribute to mutual communal benefits, enhance personal freedom, and inspire others to pursue such noble ends. Thus, the issue of moral sources is vital to this debate on the qualities of freedom of the will, as Taylor emphasizes. Freedom’s motivation to execute responsible behaviour requires the good.

Application of Moral Sources

Transcendent divine goodness is present and accessible in the human sphere through the incarnation of Jesus who is called the Christ. Transcendence does not therefore mean aloofness and indifference, or a burdensome or unreachable standard of perfection, but rather a creative, fruitful engagement with the world, society and its institutions. Transcendent divine goodness takes on an historical and christological determination in order to impact the human moral world. By reading the moral life through the life of Christ, one cannot espouse a minimalist and juridical conception of the moral life that merely acts on what is permitted and forbidden. We find a moral life that makes sense in the light of a Christ who is full of goodness, who incarnates divine, infinite goodness in human flesh, and articulates it authentically, historically, and culturally. D. Steven Long highlights to the moral normativity of the life of Jesus.

In Christian theology, Jesus reveals to us not only who God is but also what it means to be truly human. This true humanity is not something we achieve on our own; it comes to us as a gift.… The reception of this gift contains an ineliminable element of mystery that will always require faith. Jesus in his life, teaching, death and resurrection and ongoing presence in the church and through the Holy Spirit … orders us towards God. He directs our passions and desires towards that which can finally fulfil them and bring us happiness … [and] reveal to us what it means to be human. (D. S. Long, 2001, 106-7) 

This immanence offers the option of life of the self, lived not autonomously but in cooperation with divine wisdom and goodness. In the incarnation of Jesus Christ, goodness is made accessible, personal and real. It is not left as an abstract unattainable ideal, or a wholly other reality alone. It is transcendent goodness expressed in our immanent reality. Within this plausibility structure, the roots for the ethical life, the transcendent condition for this life, lie in God, not in a mythological ontology of freedom (Foucault). Jesus and his followers, the church, are the dynamic unity between the transcendent/eternal and the temporal, the absolute and the contingent. The relational goodness of God is discovered not by means of a mere abstract speculation but in human lives oriented toward God, subjectivity engaged and inspired by the needs of the human other, as well as by the goodness of God. Therefore, the first human life to consider for this position of hope is the life of Jesus, who found his moral sources in God, his Father. He promised the same potential goodness (righteousness) to his disciples through the work of the Holy Spirit. This trinitarian goodness is a gift, and profoundly it is the gift of Jesus Christ. He is God’s goodness embodied, embedded in human culture, sourced in God’s own self. The human self, in this case, is constituted by its engagement with the divine self in the process of discovering a spiritual and moral epiphany. This is an encounter which provides transformation and a new vision for the world. The focus is on agape love not on power. One does have a relationship with one’s own self, but one can also have a relationship with a transcendent self who is goodness, love in communion (The Christian Trinity).

There is a second aspect of incarnation, beyond Jesus’ particular presence on earth. It is God the Son’s presence in his church. The church offers an historical and cultural presence, performance and embodiment of God’s goodness, socially locating divine goodness in a human community and narrative. Schwöbel (1992, 76) notes that divine goodness, a communion of love in itself, “finds its social form in the community of believers as the reconstituted form of life of created and redeemed sociality.” (D.W. Hardy, 2001, 75) underlines that the task of the church is to face into “the irreducible density of the goodness that is God in human society” and elsewhere he (D. W. Hardy, 1996, 202) identifies “the existence of social being in humanity (the social transcendental), and the movement of social being through the social dynamic, as due to the presence of divine sociality and hence the trinitarian presence of God.”  

Thereby, one’s own self-constitution is seen to involve the flourishing of the other, the honouring of the other, as well as receiving from the other in mutuality, in a communion of love. The other changes in significance, from a categorical threat (a potential dominator in the world of will to power and disciplinary practices) in Foucault’s ethics, to an esteemed opportunity of mutuality. The other is highly valued as an end in herself. The self, in this case, discovers and constructs itself within community, with a moral inclusiveness that involves the pursuit of a communion of love, rather than a pursuit of radical autonomy. However fragile or imperfect this incarnation of trinitarian goodness in Christian community, it is no less profound for the transformation of the self according to a strong transcendence of depth. Human creatures are called upward morally and spiritually to image and give witness to the dynamic being and activity of the triune God. This imaging transforms the moral vision of the self in a dynamic way, and enhances human possibilities for action towards the good of the other and the good of society.

That most poignant image of hope, the Kingdom of God, expresses the relation of free divine love and loving human freedom together in depicting the ultimate purpose of God’s action as the perfected community of love with his creation. (C. Schwöbel, 1995, 80) 

This entails a transcendent moral turn for the self, beyond fear of domination and mutual competition (agonisme) or pursuit of self-indulgence (an anti-humanist stance), to a pro-human, pro-existence, self-giving love and mutual support. It is important to realize that raw self-construction is called into question in this blog series. It begs the question of human givenness and of the discovery of self in community. It is not the economy of a naked, free human will choosing to follow a moral law or choosing to design self autonomously. Goodness is no mere achievement of the human will; it is truly a mysterious gift of God. 

Therefore, Wealth, Power, Pleasure, and Honour cannot be the key goals for our lives. Bishop Robert Barron says it well on YouTube: “Your Life is not About You.”

Dr. Gordon E. Carkner, author, blogger, meta-educator with UBC postgraduate students

See also https://ubcgcu.org/2015/03/22/is-agape-love-a-source-of-the-good/

Taylor, C. (1989). Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern Identity, Harvard University Press.

Taylor, C. (1994). Charles Taylor Replies. In J. Tully (Ed.) Philosophy in an Age of Pluralism: The philosophy of Charles Taylor in question (pp. 213-57). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 

Long, D.S. (2001). The Goodness of God. Grand Rapids: Brazos Press. 

Schwöbel, C. (1992). God’s Goodness and Human Morality. In C. Schwöbel, God: Action and revelation (pp. 63-82). Kampen, Holland: Pharos. 

Schwöbel, C. (1995). Imago Libertatis: Human and Divine Freedom. In C. Gunton (Ed.) God & Freedom: Essays in historical and systematic theology (pp. 57-81). Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark. 

Sources of Identity & Meaning: https://wordpress.com/post/ubcgcu.org/10463

YouTube Video, Rethinking Identity Through the Lens of Incarnation: https://youtu.be/hRpC9f0J6WM

Our Scholarly Lecture Series for 2024-25 https://ubcgfcf.com