PEOPLE'S CHURCH OF DOVER

Philippians 4:4-9                                                                               The Ethics of Virtue

Sermon October 12, 2008:  People's United Church of Christ, Dover, DE:  The Rev. Dan Griggs

 

            The ancient Greek historian Herodotus tells the story of a conversation that took place between the wise man Solon, who had given a law-code to Athens, and rich King Croesus.  Croesus went out of his way to impress Solon with his wealth, his success and his status; and then he went fishing for a compliment.  He asked, "We have heard that you have traveled far and wide and met many people, so tell me:  of all the people you've met, whom do you consider the happiest?"  Croesus expected Solon to say, "Why, you, of course."  But he didn't say that.  Instead the philosopher answered, "Tellus of Athens is the happiest man."  The king demanded an explanation, and Solon said, "First, his country was flourishing during his lifetime, and second he had virtuous sons, and he lived to see his grandchildren, and third he died as a hero in battle defending his country."  King Croesus was not pleased, so he asked again, "Who besides Tellus is the happiest man you've ever met?"  Solon answered, "Two brothers, Cleobis and Bito of Argos; because they had enough of life's wealth to meet their needs, they both won prizes at the Olympic Games, and when the oxen for their mother's carriage didn't arrive in time they pulled her carriage themselves five miles to the city worship festival, and so won the admiration of their neighbors; and then they fell asleep, exhausted in the temple, and there they died in honor."  This answer made King Croesus angry, "What about me?  Am I less happy than these private citizens?"  Solon replied, "Yes, your majesty, you are very rich, and you will probably live to old age; but if a person simply has enough, wealth will not improve their happiness.  And many people are healthy enough to live long lives.  But call no person truly happy until they have died:  then people can see if they have retained their good fortune and their reputation.  Only then can we say they really were the happiest people alive."[1]  So wrote Herodotus. 

            Happiness comes from neither wealth nor health, but from the quality of a person's character.  What I want to talk about today is the kind of ethics Paul describes in the Epistle Lesson.  He wrote to his good friends not about rules, and not about what you have to do to stay out of hell, but rather about an ethics of virtue:

 

 

He isn't talking about the Ten Commandments, or the Two Great Commandments, or the Beatitudes:  he's talking about the quality of your character—the ethics of virtue.   The question is not, "What are the rules?"  The question is not, "What are the consequences?"  Instead, the question Paul is answering is this:  "What kind of person should I be?"[2]

 

            "Whatever is true."  This isn't the same thing as the Commandment "Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor."[3]  In Paul's way of expressing it, it isn't the words you speak that are "true," it's you yourself who is "true."  In the first chapter of the Gospel of John we have the story of Jesus' calling his first disciples.  When he called Philip, Philip found his friend Nathaniel and said, "We've found the one Moses promised—Jesus of Nazareth."  Nathaniel grumbled, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?"  But he came to meet Jesus, and when Jesus saw him he said, "Here is an Israelite in whom there is no guile."  Nathaniel asked, "How do you know me?"  And Jesus said, "I saw you under the fig tree, before Philip called you."[4]  "Under the fig tree" is where scripture and tradition say some of the great people of faith have gone for intense prayer.[5]  The man Jesus saw was not just a man who told the truth:  Nathaniel was a true person—a "mensch."  He embodied an excellence of character that we all admire in another person, and hope someday we can be "true" too. 

            "Whatever is honorable."  There are some people you know who just don't ever lose your respect.  She may tell a joke.  She may engage in a sport.  She may have a career.  She may be a wife and mother.  He may have been a soldier.  He may be spending a lot of time and energy trying to take care of an aging parent.  He may drive a sportcar.  They come in all shapes, sizes, colors and voices; but wherever they show up, whatever they find to do, the thing that stands out about them is the quality of their character--worthy of respect.  We say we should respect the president because he holds the office of president.  We say we should respect the governor even if we disagree with everything she decides, because of her office.  I'm not talking about that formal kind of respect:  I'm talking about a person with such an honorable character that they don't need to get elected to anything to have our honor.  This is what one Zen Buddhist master described as "the true man of no title."[6]  Paul writes to his friends and suggests to them that the worthy moral life mirrors "whatever is honorable."  This is not a command or a rule:  it's the ethics of virtue lived out through a lifetime.

            And then he says, "whatever is just."  When President Carter complied with the Panama Canal Treaty and began preparations to turn the canal back over to the nation of Panama, Senator S. I. Hawakawa of California commented, "Don't give it back!  We stole it fair and square!"  Does a "just character" also need the prudence to know when absolute fairness is unfair, or unwise?[7]  This character thing gets complicated sometimes, doesn't it!  When our son was three years old my father said to me one day, "Don't spank Bill for his mistakes:  spanking him won't get the job done."  I've always thought there was more than a little bit of grandfatherly indulgence in that suggestion, but in one sense he was right:  there are some children who don't pay attention to correction unless you apply the palm of your hand, and there are other children in the same family who don't pay attention if you do.  So what does it mean to be a just parent?  Does it mean to give to each what is best for each, or to give to each exactly the same thing you give to the other?  Yes, to be a "just person" requires a lot of wisdom and a lot of prayer.  "Whatever is just." 

            Paul continues his ethics of virtue:  "Whatever is pure."  Personal purity is not well thought of in our time:  our culture celebrates the flashy, the teasing, the suggestive and the lurid; and someone whose character could be described as "pure" is condemned as a "prude."  To get beyond the sexual aspect of the word, our culture seems to expect workers high and low who have the opportunity to cheat to go right ahead and cheat.  This present banking crisis our country is living through is the result of exactly that assumption:  if you can cheat the lender out of money, go for it; and if you can cheat a gullible home-buyer out of their down payment and several years' mortgage payments, then go for it; and if you can get the federal government to give you money that doesn't exist to make up the difference, then go for it.  What would a "pure" character look like in times like these?  I'm not sure I know, but I'd like to have the chance to see it—wouldn't you!  Paul is calling us to an incredibly high vision of character.  If we could even come close to this vision, we would be true disciples of Jesus. 

            "Whatever is lovely."  The Greek word Paul uses here has no equivalent in English:  he doesn't mean "pretty," he means "attractive to the best in other people."  You may remember Roy Croft's poem "Love."  It begins:[8]

I love you not only for what you are,

but for what I am when I am with you.

I love you not only

for what you have made of yourself,

but for what you are making of me. (etc.)

 

One of the highest compliments you can give to a friend is to tell them, "You draw out the best in me."  Can people say that to you?  Are you the kind of person that makes other people want to reach higher?  During the early, apostolic ministry in Jerusalem, the temple court (the Sanhedrin) had Peter and John arrested.  When they were brought before the tribunal they gave an eloquent defense.  The educated accusers were surprised that rough fishermen from the Galilee hinterlands might have either the courage or the knowledge to give such an impressive answer, and it says:[9]

 

and they recognized that [Peter and John] had been with Jesus.

 

Can people tell if you have been with Jesus?  It isn't a rule or a command:  it's an issue of character—the ethics of virtue. 

            Then he writes, "whatever is worthy of praise."  It really does make a difference what other people say about you when the issue is your character.  One of the standards the early second century church used in appointing presbyters (ministers) is described this way:[10]

 

 

Now we know that good character is who you are in yourself, even when nobody is looking; but when somebody does look, do they see a life worthy of praise? 

            "If there is any excellence, any approval—think on these things."  Paul actually uses the word the ancient Greek philosophers used to talk about "virtue"—translated here as "excellence."[11]  It means excellence of character.  This is the kind of person who doesn't need rules because she is already living that way. 

 

            My Hebrew professor in college, John Willis, was an amazing man.  He was maybe five feet seven inches tall and a little chunky.  He had a natural bump near the end of his nose that you couldn't help staring at when he was talking to you.  Like many scholars he was bookish and spoke that way—I think he could read about ten languages, ancient and modern.  He invited me personally to study the book of Hosea with him on Saturdays:  he was my mentor.  But the most striking thing about the man was his ability to keep his mouth shut and cooperate with others.  I never heard John Willis say one negative thing about anybody—on campus or off; and this was in 1967 and '68 when there were plenty of negative things that could be said about a lot of people, and the college administration was acting paranoid.  John just let it go, smiled, leaned his head forward and taught us Hebrew and Old Testament.  I left college a better person for having known him.

            Character!  The ethics of virtue.  Paul translated that ancient philosophical ethics into Christian practice, baptized it, and held it up before us.  And the issue is:  what kind of person should I be?  and you?

AMEN