Jesus, Jeremy Bentham, and Ann Frank
Jeremy GayedI. THE DILEMMA
An interesting and familiar ethical dilemma goes like this: Say you’re living in Germany during the Third Reich. Ann Frank and her family comes to you for help, and you hide them in your attic. Later, an SS officer comes to your door and asks “Are there Jews in your attic?”
While most people are familiar with the Ann Frank dilemma only as a rather grim riddle, it presents a serious and largely unconsidered issue of how we ought to make moral decisions. The dilemma challenges not only what you might do in a given situation, but who you are and what you believe at the most fundamental level. Although the dilemma is designed to have no “good” outcome, its difficulty relies on a mistaken interpretation of “lying.” After studying this dilemma for some time, I’ve concluded that a Protestant Christian ought to tell the Nazi officer that there are no Jews in the attic, and can do so without sinning. (The Catholic is out of luck, as shown below).
The dilemma is interesting because it forces a mutually exclusive decision between two systems of moral judgment that we typically use every day without noticing the inherent contradictions between them. The first system is deontological ethics, or “an approach . . . that focuses on the rightness or wrongness of actions themselves, as opposed to the rightness or wrongness of the consequences of those actions.” Robert G. Olson, Encyclopedia of Philosophy, “Deontological Ethics,” (Paul Edwards, ed., 1967). The second system is consequentialist ethics, an approach that holds that “the rightness of an action is determined by its consequences.” Antony Flew, A Dictionary of Philosophy, “Consequentialism,” (2d ed. 1979), which was famously championed by English philosopher Jeremy Bentham.
The Ann Frank dilemma is designed to coerce the responder to decide which ethic they believe in more deeply by forcing them to choose which they are willing to violate. The fundamental choice is between avoiding the wrong of lying regardless of the consequence, or committing the wrong of lying to prevent the wrong of murder. Most attempts to escape the dilemma in a way that satisfies both deontological and consequentialist ethics are ill-conceived. One Catholic scholar, for example, has proposed responding with the literally true statement “There are no Jews here,” with here indicating the exact spot where the speaker is standing. The Catechism of the Catholic Church shows that the dilemma is not so easily avoided, stating that the Bible “forbids misrepresenting the truth in our relations with others.” While “there are no Jews here” is literally true, it is a deliberate misrepresentation of the truth to the Nazi officer, and thus, under Catholic doctrine, a deontological error.
Assuming that the Catholic scholar cannot succeed in his attempt to escape the dilemma with his deontological and consequentialist credentials both unsullied, the Catholic responder must choose between a deontological and a consequentialist approach, either sinning in fact or permitting sin in consequence.
II. DEONTOLOGY OR CONSEQUENTIALISM?
Any thoughtful response to the Ann Frank dilemma must begin by determining a method by which to choose between deontological and consequentialist ethics. The most sensible first step for a Christian responder is to turn to Scripture and see what it has to say on the issue.
A survey of Scriptures shows that Christianity categorically and unambiguously rejects consequentialist ethics. In the books of Romans, Paul refers to reports that Christians embrace a consequentialist ethic as “slanderous”: “Why not say—as we are being slanderously reported as saying and as some claim that we say—’Let us do evil that good may result?’ Their condemnation is deserved.” Romans 3:8. Matthew Henry’s Concise Commentary describes this passage expressly as a rejection of consequentialism: “The believer knows that duty belongs to him, and events to God; and that he must not commit any sin, or speak one falsehood, upon the hope, or even the assurance, that God may thereby glorify Himself. If any speak and act thus, their condemnation is just.”
The Gospels routinely suggest that moral duties are absolute and should be approached without regard to consequence. For example, Matthew 18:6-9 and Mark 9:42-47 say: “If your hand or your foot causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life maimed or crippled than to have two hands or two feet and be thrown into eternal fire. And if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into the fire of hell.” The duty to avoid sin is absolute; the passage rejects absolutely the weighing of results central to consequentialism.
Luke 17:4 says, “If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him. If he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times comes back to you and says, ‘I repent,’ forgive him.” From a consequentialist perspective, this level of forgiveness is unethical because its likely result is to enable the brother to sin infinitely and the Christian to be victimized endlessly. The passage is only coherent from a deontological perspective, in which the duty to forgive is absolute, regardless of its likely results.
More could be said about the Scripture’s commitment to deontological ethics, but, in the interest of space, I’ll return to the Ann Frank dilemma. The Christian responder now knows that he ought to respond based on a deontological commitment to right. In the words of Matthew Henry’s Commentary on the Bible, “The believer knows that duty belongs to him, and events to God . . . .” The Christian responder’s duty is to obey his moral obligations to Christ–the results of that obedience are left to God.
Deontological ethics forbid the Christian from violating the commandment against lying, and allows one of two obvious responses to the SS officer:
1) There are Jews in my attic;
2) There are Jews in my attic, but I choose to sacrifice myself to resist you until they can escape.
III. ONE PROPOSED SOLUTION FOR PROTESTANTS
For Protestant Christians unbound by the doctrinal constraints of the Catechism, there is a third morally correct option:
3) There are not Jews in my attic.
The premise of this option, which was developed by Dietrich Bonhoeffer and first suggested to me by professor G. Robert Blakey of Notre Dame Law School, is that the commandment against lying simply does not prohibit all deliberate falsehoods. Studying Scriptures closely suggests that the moral definition of a “lie” just isn’t the same as the literal definition.
The Bible contains no commandment prohibiting all deliberate falsehoods. It prohibits only, “bear[ing] false witness against your neighbor.” Exodus 20:16; Deuteronomy 5:20. There are two obvious differences between the literal definition of “lying” as “any deliberate falsehood” and what the Scriptures actually prohibit:
1) The Scriptures prohibit “bearing false witness.” This is a narrower category than “deliberate falsehood.” “Bearing witness” is not just making any statement, but rather making a statement in a legal proceeding, where the speaker has a legal and social obligation to state facts accurately. “Bearing witness” is, in the broadest reasonable construction, a statement in which the speaker has a particular duty to speak truthfully. “Bearing false witness,” then, is not merely speaking a deliberate falsehood, but rather speaking a deliberate falsehood when you have a particular duty to speak the truth.
2 ) The Scriptures prohibit the act of bearing false witness only “against your neighbor.” Assuming that this phrase isn’t mere verbiage, and that it was intended to have meaning, the duty not to “bear false witness” does not apply to every person in the world for every statement. That is, the moral duty to speak the truth is not owed to everyone, but only to some people. What constitutes a sinful lie when spoken to one person may not if spoken to another. Logically, the broadest conceivable group that could qualify as “your neighbor” in the context of bearing witness are the people that have a right to hear the truth with regard to the statement spoken.
The contours of the moral duty to avoid bearing false witness against your neighbor do not need to be defined with precision for application to the Ann Frank dilemma. The responder cannot have a particular duty to speak the truth when doing so will result in a sinful murder, and, even if he did, the SS officer cannot have a moral right to hear the truth when he intends to use it to commit a sinful murder. In the absence of a general duty to tell the truth about Ann’s whereabouts, and in the absence of a right on the part of the SS officer to learn the truth about Ann’s whereabouts, the Protestant Christian responder does not sin by stating a deliberate falsehood.

November 5th, 2007 at 5:13 pm
The passage does not directly address the moral rightness or wrongness of the actions, but 1 Samuel 21 has multiple examples of deliberate misrepresentation of the truth which is not condemned as sin. David is fleeing Saul and he “lies” to Ahimelech the priest saying that he was sent on a secret mission by the king. Then later he is recognized by another king and pretends to be a madman so that he will be released from custody.
November 5th, 2007 at 9:21 pm
I’m not so sure the Protestant can escape this dilemma either, Jeremy.
Jesus regularly reinterpreted the meaning of passages in the Hebrew Scriptures (although, if one accepts the premise that he was God, one could say that he only clarified them). “You have heard it said … But I say to you …” was his classic format to imbue well-known passages with new meaning. In the gospel of Luke, when the scribe asked Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?”, Jesus answered his question with the parable of the Good Samaritan — saying, in effect, that everyone is your neighbor. Under that new interpretation, I’m not sure that an orthodox (small “o”) Christian can say that a person of bad will, even a SS officer, is not his neighbor as Jesus reinterpreted the term “neighbor.” Or, if one can say that, then one is also absolved of having to pray for — and to show mercy, charity, and long-suffering patience towards — his new non-neighbor as well. It seems fairly clear that Christ did not leave the latter option open for Christian believers, however, so I’m wondering how it’s possible that he left the former option open.
Also, John, remember that David’s little white lie to the priests of Nob led to all but one of them being slaughtered by Saul, and that David explicitly repented of his lie to Ahimelech when he heard of its consequences.
November 5th, 2007 at 10:26 pm
Paul, your argument relies on a semantic game with the word “neighbor” that ignores the contexts in which the word is used.
In the Good Samaritan story, Jesus makes the radical point that a person’s neighbor for the purpose of love and charity is not defined by race, tribe, or creed. The parable doesn’t, however, stand for the semantic simplification that “neighbor=everyone.”
There are four actors in the story other than the victim and the robber: the priest, the Levite, the Samaritan, and the innkeeper. Jesus very specifically asked the expert in the law which of the former three was the victim’s neighbor. The innkeeper, even though he helped the victim, too, wasn’t up for consideration. What’s the difference between the innkeeper and the Samaritan? The innkeeper accepted compensation for his help, but Jesus doesn’t say anything to indicate that’s a morally relevant difference. The real difference is that the Samaritan and the victim met on the road, and the innkeeper and the victim did not. In redefining the word “neighbor,” Jesus does not make the simple statement that everyone is everyone’s neighbor, instead he suggests that “neighbor” is defined by the presence of a moral duty on one hand and a moral right on the other, regardless of other ties or lack of between the parties. In the parable, the victim had a moral right to help, and the Samaritan had a moral duty to help. That relationship of right and duty bound them together as neighbors. The commandment against false witness in Exodus operates on the same principle. The speaker and the neighbor against who he must not bear false witness are not defined by the overly simple “neighbor = everyone” approach you suggest. Instead, they are bound by a contextual duty to speak truth on the one hand and a specific right to have the truth spoken on the other.
The relational nature of the commandment is emphasized by its language. If the commandment simply stood for the proposition that we should never “bear false witness,” it could say “Thou shalt not bear false witness” or even “Though shalt not bear false witness to thy neighbor or about thy neighbor.” The commandment doesn’t say those things. It says, “Thou shalt not bear false witness AGAINST thy neighbor.” The prohibition is neccesarily relational and contextual. A direct analogy is swinging a sword. A person is not morally probited from swinging a sword. A person may or may not be prohibited from swinging their sword AT a person–after all, the person may be trying to kill them, or the person may be armored and not susceptible to harm. A person is always prohibited from swinging a sword AGAINST their neighbor–that is, someone who has a moral right not to be harmed by the sword holder.
Even if the semantics of “neighbor = everyone” are accepted, and the import of the word “against” is ignored, Paul’s suggestion still fails to account for two aspects of scripture.
First, the commandment prohibits only “bearing false witness.” Even if this is prohibited as against everyone, it still means something more than merely stating a falsehood. It means at least stating a falsehood in the presence of a specific, particular duty to state the truth.
Second, the Bible has examples of people who are not said to sin, and in fact are praised for stating falsehood deliberately. Rahab, for example, lied about the spies hiding in the basked and was blessed for it. In the example noted by John, David lies to Ahimelech and then lies to others, pretending to be insane. When Ahimelech is killed by Saul, David does not repent for lying–he laments that he had the poor judgment to compromise Ahimelech. “Then David said to Abiathar: “That day, when Doeg the Edomite was there, I knew he would be sure to tell Saul. I am responsible for the death of your father’s whole family.” 1 Sam. 22:22. David’s regret is not for lying to the priest, but for compromising the priest by showing himself at the wrong time.
These examples must mean one of two things. Either God makes arbitrary, unprincpled exceptions to a general prohibition against stating falsehood deliberately, or sinful lying consists of something more than merely stating a falsehood deliberately. If the latter, the right/obligation model is the only explanation I’ve seen that reconciles scriptural text with scriptual example, common sense, and conscience.
November 7th, 2007 at 5:27 pm
Comment…
Catechism of the Catholic Church, par. 2488…
The right to the communication of the truth is not unconditional. Everyone must conform his life to the Gospel precept of fraternal love. This requires us in concrete situations to judge whether or not it is appropriate to reveal the truth to someone who asks for it.
That doesn’t necessarily prove that the Catholic is right to lie to the SS officer, it only shows neutrality is fair in that situation. Neutrality would be forced out of me, of course, but if it were an option, it’s fair.
Rebuttal…
“‘Bearing false witness,’ then, is not merely speaking a deliberate falsehood, but rather speaking a deliberate falsehood when you have a particular duty to speak the truth.” Let’s transitive property this thing…
*Bearing false witness = speaking a falsehood when there’s a duty to speak the truth (given)
*Telling the SS officer that there are no Jews here = speaking a falsehood when I have a duty to speak the truth
*Telling the SS officer that there are no Jews here = bearing false witness.
Did I miss something…?
November 7th, 2007 at 6:12 pm
I don’t follow your minor premise. Telling the SS officer that there are no Jews here is certainly speaking a falsehood, but I don’t see any particular duty to speak the truth in that situation.
The Catechism says that “”A lie consists in speaking a falsehood with the intention of deceiving.” para. 2482. The statement is unequivocal–any falsehood with intention of deceiving (what I’ve been referring to as “deliberate falsehood”) is sinful.
At the same time, the catechism says, “No one is bound to reveal the truth to someone who does not have the right to know it.” para. 2489.
It appears that under the catechism, the Catholic is not required to tell the truth, but neither may he lie. His choices are between truth and silence.
It’s interesting that the catechism accepts in principle at least part of my thesis–the commandment against false witness is contextual, relational, and best understood as a pairing of right and duty. It doesn’t follow that understanding to Bonhoeffer’s logical and principled conclusion, though–the moral choices are not between truth and silence, but between sinful truth and virtuous deception.
November 10th, 2007 at 12:11 pm
Hi Jeremy
Congratulations on creating a dilemma from another dilemma. Well, in my view, The Christian’s duty to tell the truth, is not to the human recipient of the information (the Nazi officer in your story), but to God who is the ultimate receiver of this information . God controls the events, but not always to our immediate approval.You are trying to adress How to deal with this critical situation without relying on God’s unpredictable response. Obviously; The answer depends on your level of faith. Most Humans do not have that level of trasparency with God. God also understands our difficulty in choices in very acute situations. Peter denied Jesus three times before the roaster reminded him. My solution is to do like Peter; lie to save Ann Frank and her family then go out and cry for forgiveness. This way you are both Deontological and Consequenial at the same time.
November 11th, 2007 at 7:53 am
I wonder, Mr. Gayed, if the solution is so easy. I don’t think that the example of St. Peter thrice denying his association with Jesus (only hours after swearing to die for the man, no less) morally parallels your advice. If it did, Peter would have had to have planned his repentance from the moment he decided to go back on his word and deny his master. But then, would his repentance have been genuine? I say no. Or, at the very least, it would not have been as genuine as it (presumably) ended up being — assuming he denied his master in a moment of selfish fear and panic and not in accordance with a premeditated scheme, of course.
If I, as a religious person, do something I have good reason to believe is either wrong or is something that I have been proscribed from doing, with the explicit intent to repent after I do it so that I can “clean the slate” as it were (or “go out and cry for forgiveness”), I don’t think I’d be very deontological. I think I would be supremely consequentialist, actually, since I would only do my duty in order to get the best consequences for Ann Frank (she lives) and myself (I get forgiveness). I’m not so sure this circle can be squared so easily.
November 11th, 2007 at 1:24 pm
I see where you’re coming from, Dad, and I think I agree with some of it. Your point that we owe our moral duty to God is true, but too broad to account for the text of scripture. We surely owe our duty to obey the commandments to God. But the commandment itself appears to give us another, more specific duty “not to bear false witness against our neighbor.” This duty we owe because of God, but He told us that this particular duty we owe directly to our neighbor, who we musn’t bear false witness against. The essential point is that the duty we owe to God to follow the commandment is fulfilled by a more specific duty to our neighbor–in other words, the moral duty imposed by the commandment is relational and contextual, and has room for the kind of discussion we’re having here. It’s not a flat-out, categorical prohibition against untruth-telling.
On your second point, I think you and Paul might be coming at the same point from different angles, and its a point I agree with. At the end of the day, we are flawed not only in our inability to keep from sin, but even in our ability to know what’s right with certainty. All we can do is follow our reason as far as it will take us, and, in acute situations like the Ann Frank dillema, follow our conscience, and pray for God to forgive us if we have erred. That’s not to say that we sin deliberately and count on forgiveness–Paul rightly points out that problems with that. But when we are in a situation that demands immediate action, and we have neither the time nor the ability to find the right path through reason, God’s mercy has room for well-intentioned error.
On your point about trusting God–that’s an excellent point. Matthew Henry’s Commentary makes that exact same point from the passage in Romans: the duty to do right falls to the Christian, without regard to the consequences. The consequences are in God’s hands, and the Christian has to have faith that the right thing to do is the thing that should be done, even when it doesn’t appear wise by human standards. But the question I ask in this essay is whether it’s really wrong to tell the Nazi something that isn’t true.
November 11th, 2007 at 4:11 pm
I agree with both of you Jeremy and Paul. Peter obviously did not intend to lie, however, he exemplifies our vulnerable human nature. Yes Paul one would be decieptive to God and own self if plans to lie ahead at certain threshold of adversity. God wants us to be deontological, but not unwise. Mathew 10:16″I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves” . God expects us to handle these very critical situations with great wisdom. If you tell the Nazi officer “Yes officer Ann Frank/Family are up there” you did not sin by lying but you sinned by not taking good care of you neighbor and wasting the wisdom God gave you. Hopefully none of us will face a situation as grave as Ann frank’s, but if you do and Iam a member of Ann Frank’s family please follow Peters example and I will pray for your forgiveness.
November 12th, 2007 at 7:05 pm
Just to throw another example into the mix, what about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego refusing to bow to Nebuchadnezzar’s golden image? Clearly, they could have bowed to the image with false intentions simply to deceive the king. Was it really worth their lives not to tell this lie? Yet, they trusted God’s ability to save them out of the situation. It was folly from a human perspective, but they told the truth and left their salvation to God who delivered them. The difference that they are risking their own lives rather than someone else’s is obvious and major. But there are a lot of parallels that would argue for a deontological position in this passage of Scripture.
November 12th, 2007 at 9:01 pm
John brings up a great point here. What is being implied is an understood hierarchy of sin, namely that right worship of God takes precedence over the moral burden to protect our health. Further, any law of Nebuchadnezzar that is inherently unjust (namely an infringement on religious liberty) need not be obeyed.
Upon further review, I’m willing to run with lying to the SS in the Anne Frank dilemma. The Nazis are acting on coercion, and thus limiting the possibility for truthful dialogue. In addition, for what it’s worth, CCC #2484 says that the gravity of a lie is measured “against the nature of the truth it deforms, the circumstances, the intentions of the one who lies, and the harm suffered by its victims.” Do not these circumstances mitigate against the culpability of the lie to the Nazis?
November 13th, 2007 at 2:34 pm
Tom–that’s an interesting way to approach it. The concept of a “hierarchy of sin” is still problematic–Romans 3:8 appears to reject categorically any decision-making based on “lesser evil” reasoning.
John–The Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego example raises an interesting point. Statements about God are a special case. Scripture makes clear that when speaking about God or belief in or service to God, there is always a duty to speak the truth, regardless of the listener. This is a case where, because of the subject, you are “bearing witness” with every statement you make. This is also a case, because of God’s universal relationship to man, where everyone who can hear you is your neighbor. So, in the story, Shadrach, Mesach, and Abendego had a duty to speak the truth, and Nebuchadnezzar had a right to hear it.
November 14th, 2007 at 10:12 pm
In addition to having a responsibility to the officer not to bear false witness (we will consider all men as neighbor in this example), we also have a responsibility to not lead the SS officer to sinful acts. It seems safe to assume the truth will lead the officer into a sinful act. We have a duty to help him avoid sin which should supersede our own interests of self-preservation. All good Christians should sacrifice self for others, right?
November 15th, 2007 at 12:19 am
I think you’re playing with words a little too loosely. The Bible calls Christians to lives of sacrifice, but I can’t think of any part of it that suggests that we can justify moral error on the grounds that committing it will help someone else avoid moral error. Stuffing feathers in your hair won’t make you a chicken, and casting consequential reasoning in deontological terms won’t make it deontological. Unless, of course, you have some support for the suggestion?
November 16th, 2007 at 4:09 am
I would say that a hierarchy of sin is strongly implied throughout the Old Testament. Why punish some sins more severely than others? Why single out certain sins as especially defiling a person or a nation? Lot was not a perfect man, but his line was cursed because he slept with his daughters (albeit, unknowingly). The Israelites weren’t perfect, but God punished them especially for their idolatry over and above their other sins. The holiness codes required greater propitiatory sacrifices for some sins instead of others. All these examples seem to strongly suggest that (in the words of R.C. Sproul) all sins are equally wrong, but not all sins are equally bad. That is, that there is a hierarchy of sins. This hierarchy, if it exists, wouldn’t justify committing one instead of another, however.
November 16th, 2007 at 9:28 am
Paul, that’s a great point. It also raises the fascinating issue of the apparent difference between the moral assumptions at work in the Old and New Testaments, and the difficulty in reconciling them to each other in a way that separates the essential from the incidental. But, for the the Ann Frank dilemma, part of the dilemma is a choice between whether you consider only a sin’s “wrongness,” (deontological) or also consider its “badness” (consequential). Assuming, as I have, a deontological approach, you, I and Sproul agree that there is no hierarchy of “wrongness,” and thus no relevant hierarchy of sin.
November 19th, 2007 at 6:12 am
So let’s say I choose a third path: neither A nor B. I choose to bring the Nazis down to the secret hiding place where I’m keeping Ann and her folks. I would contend that that sin, while no more wrong than a simple “No, sir, I’m not hiding any Jews,” would clearly be more bad than said lie. If my contention is correct, then that would seem to indicate that there would indeed be a relevant hierarchy of sin, one of badness — one (outing Ann & Co. to the Nazis) being worse than the other (the simple lie).
November 19th, 2007 at 10:00 am
I’m pretty sure we’re saying the exact same thing.
November 20th, 2007 at 11:06 pm
Paul: There seems to be a relevant hierarchy of sin.
Jeremy: No there doesn’t.
Paul: Yes there does.
Jeremy: I’m pretty sure we’re saying the exact same thing.
Paul: What??
November 21st, 2007 at 8:07 am
Completely inaccurate characterization of your own statments. You’re right that we aren’t saying the ‘exact’ same thing. You’re saying that hierarchies of sin exist, and I’m saying that hierarchies of sin exist. I’m saying that this essay discusses “wrongness,” and not “badness,” so the characteristic in which sin can be hierarchical isn’t relevant to this discussion. You neglect to discuss wrongness, or to justify your mystifying insistence on discussing badness. So there is a difference. Or, to structure the argument in the more sophisticated and mature method you elected to use:
Paul: Hierarchies of sin exist
Jeremy: There is no relevant hierarch of sin
Paul: But a hierarchy of sin exists for “badness”
Jeremy: Yes. But this essay deals with a sin’s “wrongness” and there’s no hierarchy of sin there.
Paul: Here’s an example of how sin is hierarchical in the characteristic of badness.
Jeremy: Again, badness isn’t relevant, and you’ve already said that there’s no hierarchy for the characteristic of wrongness. I’m pretty sure we’re saying the same thing.
Paul: What? There’s this hierarchy for badness . . .
There is some use in arguing about what we’re arguing about to the point necessary to obtain clarity, and I think we’re there. So the ball is in your court: justify your conclusory insistence that a hierarchy of ‘badness’ is relevant, or concede the point.
November 21st, 2007 at 11:12 am
Using a strictly deontological approach, the distinction is irrelevant, I agree. I erred by not making it explicitly clear that I think your deontological approach is flawed, scripturally and theologically.
As I mentioned (and you seemed to accept), throughout the Old Testament there’s a pretty strong implication of a hierarchy of sin on the basis of its abhorrence to God. Christ implicitly accepted this hierarchy by accepting, in their fullness, the Hebrew Scriptures. He also peppered his teaching with statements that seem to more strongly imply that he accepted such a hierarchy. For instance, his singling out of religious leaders who lead vulnerable souls astray (Mk 9:42), or people who use particularly strong and hateful epithets towards others (Mt 5:22) as worthy (or in danger) of punishment above and beyond others’.
Now, there are certain aspects of the Old Testament that Christ either reinterpreted (ex. the Decalogue) or abolished (ex. Kosher food laws, the Levitic priesthood). It seems reasonable to assume, however, that if he didn’t change the interpretation of or clearly abolish something from the Old Testament, that it’s probably still a binding law or principle for Christians today. If that conclusion is true, it would seem to encompass the principle of a relevant hierarchy of sin, one for which there doesn’t seem to be an exception for perjury (which is essentially what you seem to interpret the 9th — or 8th, depending on how you divvy them up — Commandment to mean).
Hence, if there was a clearly assumed hierarchy of sin in the Old Testament, and if Christ and his Church (if you’re into the whole notion of an authoritative Church) haven’t explicitly changed or abolished that notion, or haven’t done so specifically for “lying” (or perjury), it seems that such a hierarchy exists, and that your strictly deontological idea of lying may very well be flawed.
Now, you could say that the preceding paragraphs were correct — for perjury, which is all that the 9th/8th commandment covers, but that it’s not correct for “lying”. But it seems like you’d still be in the same quandary vis a vis the apparent unitary vision of a hierarchy of sin between the Old and New Testaments. You’d still have to explain how a deontological approach that only looks at an action’s wrongness would square with the evidence from scripture (and ancient Christian understanding and tradition) that seems to say that an act’s badness is also morally relevant in judging it.
November 21st, 2007 at 11:31 am
Also, to add more to the conversation, the Catholic Catechism says, at 2509: “The golden rule helps one discern, in concrete situations, whether or not it would be appropriate to reveal the truth to someone who asks for it.”
That’s about as close as the CCC seems to get to discussing this particular situation, according to my (admittedly incomplete) reading of the CCC. Its discussion of the 8th Commandment (9th commandment for Protestants and Orthodox, since the Catholic Church lumps “worship no other gods” and “worship no idols” together and distinguishes between “don’t covet your neighbors’ goods” and “don’t covet your neighbor’s wife”, while Protestants/Orthodox do the opposite) in 2464-2513, where it deals with issues of not divulging the full truth, focuses on situations such as betraying a friend’s confidence or divulging privileged information — a priest being asked to reveal what was said in confession or a politician being asked about sensitive national security secrets.