It started with a conversation I overheard between two of my students. During the last few minutes of a double period of AP English, I heard one of my students – a Caucasian, teenage girl – accuse another student – a Caucasian, teenage boy – of being racist. Such an accusation piqued my interest, so I continued to pretend not to be listening as I focused on this conversation that was sure to last beyond the ring of the bell at the end of the period.[1] I kept my head down, but tuned out the ambient noise to listen more intently on what would follow that initial allegation. What did follow forced me to break my stoic aloofness and break out in nearly hysterical laughter.[2]
The charge of racism came because the teenage boy had told the teenage girl that he thought interspecies dating and marriage was wrong. Now this was in the context of discussing Star Trek characters, and the boy meant specifically that humans and Vulcans should not engage in conjugal relations. In this girl’s mind there was no apparent difference between interracial relationships and interspecies ones, therefore the accusations of prejudice.
My laughter at their conversation somehow elicited an invitation for my opinion on the matter. To which I replied that since the persons in question are purely fictional in nature, that it truly doesn’t matter. But if an interstellar race of Vulcans does exist, and if they ever made contact with us, and if one of their people ever fell in love with and wanted to marry one of our people… well, then I would have leave such moral decisions to those with a far deeper theological understanding than my own.[3]
My response to their conversation seemed to invite the rest of the class into the dialogue, and soon the whole class was discussing either the ethical implications of interspecies marriage or the inherent ridiculousness of a conversation on such a topic.[4] Fortunately for all of those involved, the bell rang before we could draw proverbial lines in the sand and engage in an out-and-out debate on the topic.
The classroom quickly cleared, and aforementioned boy and girl continued their debate on their way out to lunch. But another student hung back, and I could see by his pensive expression that he was actually considering the ethical and theological implications of the earlier discussion. Being not only one of the more intelligent students in the class, but also one of the more sensible ones, I inquired what he thought about the brief debate that we were all fortunate enough to witness. He said that as long as such a relationship could be maintained in the context of the Bible’s two greatest commandments – love God and love others – he didn’t see any problem with it.[5] Giving it a moment’s thought, I sort of had to agree with him.
We quickly segued our conversation away from the Great Commandments and Vulcan-human love children to the Golden Rule: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Jesus sums up the second of the Great Commandments by telling us that we ought to treat others as we ourselves want to be treated.[6] Somehow we further transitioned to considering the reverse of the Golden Rule: “Don’t do unto others what you don’t want them to do to you.” It seems that this too is a biblical and common-sensical notion, but on further discussion and thought[7] it is actually a deceptively false statement that in fact completely contradicts the true Golden Rule.
Allow me to explain:
While living by the standard of “Don’t do to others what you don’t want them to do to you” seems to naturally coincide with the original Golden Rule, it leads to a lifestyle of passivity and selfishness that makes our own preferences into our moral standards.
First, living by this redux of the Golden Rule lends itself to a life of passive interactions with our fellow man. We don’t want to open our mouths for fear of saying something offensive. We don’t want to lend a hand for fear it might be pushed aside. We go through life avoiding contact with strangers – and sometimes even those we know – for fear of rocking the boat or upsetting the status quo. We don’t do things – sometimes even helpful or loving things – because we don’t want to be seen as imposing on our fellow man. We take on a “live and let live”[8] approach to relationships.
In contrast, the real Rule calls for actively doing for others what is the right or loving thing to do. I clear the table and wash the dishes because I am appreciative of those who do the same for me. I offer to buy a friend a cup of coffee because I am thankful for others’ generosity. I do for others, not just in hopes that they will one day return the favor, but because it is the right and loving thing to do. And it’s not just when called upon or guilted into helping another. We ought to actively seek out ways to help and serve our fellow man.
The reworded Rule also leads to selfishness and self-centeredness. We, especially in this American culture, are extremely self-absorbed and, for the most part, simply don’t want to be bothered by those around us.[9] And rethinking the Golden Rule allows moral justification for this form of narcissism. We do right by not taking any initiative to help our neighbor in need because we figure that he, like ourselves, probably doesn’t really want to be bothered anyway.
But this is not what the Golden Rule calls for. The Golden Rule, followed up by the writings of the Apostle Paul, tells us to selflessly put others’ needs ahead of our own. It’s not about us and what we want or don’t want, but rather about actively and conscientiously helping and serving and loving others.
When we live by this “Don’t do…” standard, we lastly and most importantly make our own preferences the moral standard by which we live. It becomes about not hurting other people or their feelings. And the standard by which we judge this is not whether it will actually hurt them,[10] but whether we would be hurt by such actions. Our tolerance to pain – be it physical, emotional, or even spiritual – becomes the basis for our decisions and actions.[11] All absolute standards are pushed aside in favor of moral relativism based on our own needs and wants, as well as our fears and intolerances.
With the “Do unto…” Rule, it’s not about us. This Rule takes us back to the Great Commandments of loving God and loving others. We do what we do not out of selfish preferences, or even guilt or obligation, but out of the love we have for God and for those around us. There is no fear or intolerance in our motivations. We act because we know it will please those for whom we are acting. There is a true and lasting freedom to be found here. Instead of walking on eggshells or living and letting live, we actively seek out ways to express the love we have for our God and our fellow man.
Our culture has taken this biblical Truth and twisted ever so slightly so as to provide a very moralistic façade for selfish moral relativism. If “Do unto others…” is true, surely it’s counterpart, “Don’t do unto others…” must be true as well.[12] But we must not allow this slight variation of the Truth to give us permission for passivity and narcissism. Let us not become complacent, but rather remain active in selflessly giving and serving and loving our God and our neighbor.
Even if that neighbor is one we will never meet who comes from a fictitious other planet.
[1] I had a tendency, especially during these double periods, to allow a few minutes of down time before the bell rang. It gave the students a few minutes to unwind and process what we had done during the period, and gave me a chance to either gather my things for the next class or, as in this case, to eavesdrop on some rather fascinating, and often hilarious, conversations. But it takes a seasoned teacher and a good group of students to allow for any down time at any point during the class period. Given a moment of freedom, a group of seemingly sweet and innocent teenagers can quickly turn into a riotous, bloodthirsty mob. Teenagers can smell fresh meat and will move in for the kill if they sense that a teacher is inexperienced and doesn’t know what to do with those last few minutes of class.[back]
[2] Something I learned very early in my teaching career is to never show too much emotion.* No matter how angry or frustrated or sad or happy you feel at the moment, keep up the poker face. A mentor teacher early in my career told me to never smile before Christmas vacation. Don’t raise your voice and get angry, no matter how stupid the students may be. And never, ever let them see you cry.[back]
*Given that I have the emotional expression of a small kitchen appliance, this came quite easily for me. It wasn’t long before I gained the reputation of “The Teacher Who Never Smiles” and got to witness all sorts of antics that my students would pull in order to try to wear me down and get more than a sarcastic smirk out of me.
[3] My theological understanding – on most topics at least – is about on the level of “Jesus loves me, this I know for the Bible tells me so.”[back]
[4] To remind you, these were AP students in the room. A good number of them undoubtedly had higher IQs than my own.[back]
[5] Except of course the utter fictitious and ridiculous nature of the topic itself. But looking past that, he did make a very good point.[back]
[6] How we got from the first topic to this one, as well as how the Golden Rule might apply to interplanetary marriages, escapes my memory at the moment. But to be honest, I was glad to be off the first topic no matter what we were talking about.[back]
[7] The idea stuck with me the rest of the day, and with a forty-minute commute home from work, I had plenty of time to chew on it that afternoon.[back]
[8] And, one could add, “leave the hell alone.”[back]
[9] This seems especially true of Southern Californians, a breed all their own when it comes to the self-absorbed need for personal space. I still remember very vividly a trip my high school senior class took to Washington, DC and New York City. It rocked several of our eighteen-year-old worlds when, during lunch in a McDonald’s in the middle of Times Square, complete strangers would come and sit in the empty seats at our table or booth. In NYC, if there’s an empty seat, it’s fair game for anyone and strangers have no qualms about sharing a meal together. Here in SoCal, it is not uncommon to see a restaurant dining room filled with half empty booths and tables and people standing around complaining that there is nowhere to sit. It is all but unpardonable to join someone at a table uninvited.[back]
[10] And we won’t know if we have hurt them until we do whatever it is we are considering doing and see the consequences of our actions. But even then we might not know that we have hurt someone by our actions because we may not see the hurt we cause. The person we hurt may – perhaps out of fear of hurting our feelings – hide the hurt we have caused. Or our actions may have long-lasting consequences that don’t lead to actual hurt or pain until much later on, well after we have done our deed.[back]
[11] Plus, there is the excuse of “well, it doesn’t hurt anyone else” as if the fact that we are only hurting ourselves (perhaps through drug or alcohol use, or other self-destructive behavior) justifies our actions, when in reality the fact that we are hurting ourselves will probably hurt someone else, and more importantly grieves the heart of our Creator.[back]
[12] It’s been said that the best lies contain 90% truth.[back]
WELL SAID MY FRIEND WELL SAID!!!