Social theory can help Christian ethics respond to structural evil, both by accurately naming “what is there” and by precisely specifying “what to do.” William Cavanaugh and Katie Grimes, representing distinct neo-Franciscan and Junian approaches, draw extensively on social theory to confront structural evils of nation-state violence and racism. Yet they fall short of an adequate account of how social structures and individual agency interact. Their works obscure the actual mechanisms of social change, call for overly heroic actions, and offer (...) rival formulations of the church–world relationship. I use critical realist social theory to offer an alternative approach that better accounts for the interaction of structure and agency needed for effective Christian responses. (shrink)

Contemporary social discourse oscillates between norms against being judgmental and discourse filled with highly judgmental conflicts. The paper suggests the inability to understand the scope and limits of judgment in society requires Christian ethics to recover its own understanding of judgment, including of a final judgment as something other than a courtroom encounter over one’s individual sins. After exploring the centrality of God’s judgment in Scripture as an ongoing activity of social ordering for justice and mercy, I draw on several (...) theologians to develop a different imagination for what final judgment means, rooted in conflicts of social identities, and then identify four key lessons for ethical discourse about social sins. (shrink)

THE VATICAN II MANDATE TO TREAT TOPICS IN MORAL THEOLOGY IN A WAY that will "shed light on the loftiness of the calling of the faithful in Christ" points the way to an alternative approach, in which sexuality and the lofty calling to the Kingdom are not simply kept separate. Such an approach would be a genuinely eschatological narration of marriage and sexuality. In this essay I argue three points: First, as a background story, the characterization of the shift in (...) the tradition on sexual issues from a "negative" to a "positive" view of sexuality is both inaccurate and theologically rather empty. Second, four writers all manifest this shift, but their construals of eschatology differ significantly—indicating that future debate about sexual ethics will have to take place among competing narrations of eschatology rather than in terms of competing moral theories about how to justify certain norms. Finally, I gesture toward potential implications for sexual norms in light of eschatological approaches to marriage and sexuality. (shrink)

In his 2016 book, Ethics in the Conflicts of Modernity, Alasdair MacIntyre spends considerable time discussing how disputes between different moral theorists and different forms of practice might be adjudicated. A crucial addition to the tradition-constituted historical narrative approach of Whose Justice? Which Rationality? is his introduction of what he calls ‘sociological self-knowledge’. The present article outlines what MacIntyre means by this and suggests that his approach here dovetails well with Christian ethicists who have advocated the use of critical realist (...) sociology in Christian ethics. MacIntyre’s account stresses the importance of ‘a grasp of the nature of the roles and relationships in which one is involved’, a grasp helpfully conceptualized by critical realists. Daniel Finn also notes that the use of critical realism to analyze structures must be paired with a basic typology, and MacIntyre’s sociological self-knowledge, I argue, rests on precisely such a typology between two different types of moral practices. The article concludes by suggesting much more attention be paid to these ‘moral-social’ analyses when addressing apparently intractable disagreements in Christian social ethics. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Christian Consumer: Living Faithfully in a Fragile World by Laura M. HartmanDavid CloutierThe Christian Consumer: Living Faithfully in a Fragile World LAURA M. HARTMAN New York: Oxford University Press, 2011. 256 pp. $29.95Laura Hartman has written an elegant, graceful, and gentle book about a topic often inspiring jeremiads: consumer society. Setting out to provide “an effective and explicitly practical ethics of consumption” (5), she develops an ethical (...) language that goes beyond sociological generalizations about “consumerism.” She structures her study by engaging ancient and contemporary theological sources to discuss “four primary considerations” (21): avoiding sin, embracing creation, loving the neighbor, and envisioning the future. Each represents a “node” of “theological reflection: sin, creation, love, and the reign of God” (25). In each area, she is unusually careful to point out the limitations of any one consideration without the others. Avoiding sin, for example, can become “a self-focused pursuit of holiness” (52); embracing creation can ignore justice concerns or, worse, lead to prosperity theology. Such limitations are less apparent when considering the final two areas. In loving the neighbor, the challenge is balancing considerations between close and distant neighbors. Finally, Hartman makes an impassioned case for Sabbath-keeping and Eucharist as practices of our destined eschatological fullness, even while recognizing that an overemphasis on these can lead to escapism and bickering over “vague and idiosyncratic” differences among Christians (167). By attending to all four notions, Hartman is able to offer a much richer picture of the conceptual field in which our consumption choices should be made. A closing chapter imagines a dinner conversation among three of her frequent interlocutors, Shannon Jung, Elizabeth Theokritoff, and James Nash, as well as applying the concepts to concrete choices of transportation and meat-eating.The book goes a long way toward its stated goal. Hartman has a skillful grasp of the complexities of both contemporary consumption practices and theological description. She displays a remarkably generous attitude toward a variety of voices, engaging positively figures as disparate as the severe abolitionist John Woolman and the prosperity televangelist Creflo Dollar. Her generosity works well; I can imagine this book being especially effective with students or church groups who might be alienated by a stronger anticonsumerism screed. As a work [End Page 247] of constructive ethics, though, the generosity leaves open a lot of questions. Hartman describes her methodology as “using a blend of methods,” owing some debts to “principalism” and to virtue ethics, explaining her four considerations “as diverse lenses on one holistic vision of virtuous consumption” (28). The four “considerations” are described as “not principles” but “actions that produce virtue” or “a school of virtue” (27)—neither are they moral rules, despite their being phrased in the form of verbal commands to action. This methodological looseness enables her to voice multiple harmony lines, which “form a chorus of perspectives on consumption” (5). But this approach can slip from generosity to vagueness. How does one determine what is off-key? The application section seems to have difficulty adjudicating particular actions; there is in effect a nonrational “weighing” that goes on, one that sometimes seems to reduce to a consideration of (incommensurable) competing consequences.The project could be furthered in two ways. First, Hartman could consider some way of ordering the considerations—not strictly ordinally but rather, for example, by recognizing that avoiding sin is a prelude to a proper embrace of creation and that creation is ordered to communion. The sequencing of her chapters hints at such an ordering, but she does not make use of it. While not reducing everything to love of God and neighbor, certainly sin, creation, and even eschatology point to this telos. Second, Hartman could go further in developing the language of virtue—for example, temperance and prudence—as a way of specifying more clearly what both avoiding sin and embracing creation mean. But her template is a valuable orientation to further needed work on this important topic. It should find a wide audience. [End Page 248]David CloutierMount St. Mary’s UniversityCopyright © 2014 Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)

DESPITE ITS PROMINENCE IN BOTH BIBLICAL AND CLASSICAL LITERATURE, the moral category of luxury has been lost in contemporary Christian ethics. To address the spending of one's money as a moral act, I propose recovering the category. A survey of the history of the term illustrates its particular place in a set of economic virtues and vices, and suggests that its "defenders" in the eighteenth century rely on arguments that are antithetical to a virtue ethics perspective and are called into (...) question by contemporary science and experience. But what counts as luxury? I conclude with a beginning casuistry in the context of the contemporary economy, suggesting that "cheap" goods may be luxuries but shared public goods are not. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Ethics in Light of ChildhoodDavid Cloutier (bio)Review of Ethics in Light of Childhood John Wall Washington, D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 2010. 204 pp. $34.95.John Wall’s ambitious volume contends that “considerations of childhood should not only have greater importance but fundamentally transform how morality is understood” (1). He rightly suggests that “the story of childhood cannot be told in one-dimensional formulas of either innocence and vulnerability or unruliness and (...) undevelopment” (7), but instead require a new paradigm for ethics: “childism.” He questions three historical views of childhood: the “top-down,” the “bottom-up,” and the developmentalist. Wall splendidly moves beyond these views and demonstrates that considering children should instruct us in the limitations of ordinary approaches to ethics—not only for children’s sake but for adults too.How so? Wall’s constructive section considers ontology, teleology, and de-ontology. In them, relying heavily on twentieth-century continental philosophy, supplemented by some social-scientific literature and numerous anecdotal examples, he develops an overall approach to the moral life. First, he argues for an ontology of “restless and endless play” (36) reflective of the human capacity for creativity possessed by both children and adults. Secondly, the moral life has a teleology of “narrative expansion,” with a constant movement toward a “more richly diverse life story” (60). Finally, moral obligation involves a constant “decentering” of the self in which “the world I create for myself should be disrupted and stretched out as far as possible by genuine human difference” (88). Building on the insights of top-down and bottom-up traditions, and going beyond the “flatly unilinear assumptions” of developmental “stageism” (81) ethics involves a constant circularity, exemplified in the final three chapters on specific issues. For example, families who “create increasingly expansive family worlds” engage in top-down transmission of tradition, developmental formation of relationality, and bottom-up nurturing of otherness (149). These qualities apply not only to children but to parents as well, and thus satisfy Wall’s desire for an ethics that is fully “child-inclusive” and that does not privilege adult agents. He succeeds admirably at demonstrating that the real agency children actually possess and exercise, as well as their vulnerability and passivity, are not simply incomplete versions of what adults possess fully.I would raise two concerns. First, the book works so hard to avoid any kind of linearity that criteria enabling judgment seem lacking—for example, surely some [End Page 195] forms of “disruption” are not to be welcomed (especially by children). The telos of “narrative expansion” so strongly refuses to privilege any perspective that it threatens to empty out what one might gingerly call “adult commitments”—to stable love, production, civic life, and fine arts—all of which require virtue (absent here), and which seem necessary for children to flourish. Aspiring “to go on creating oneself endlessly” (58) can be a fruitful depiction of adult life, or it can be an immature escapism. Without a thicker telos, the distinction is difficult to make.Second, his category of “childism” (3) forces him to artificially avoid any telos of maturation. In parallel with other “isms” (e.g., feminism), he argues that children are “full human beings,” live in “fully meaningful moral worlds,” and are “full participants in... human moral experience” (29). “Full” appears throughout, but the inclusion parallel clashes with maturation in human life. True, children and adults have both agency and vulnerability (39), but children, generally speaking, are more vulnerable and are less capable agents, and thus will have particular needs (and also offer particular gifts to adults). “Childism” sometimes obscures the particularities of childhood, and how we are bodily and culturally directed toward some “maturity.” Yet these concerns should not diminish Wall’s achievement in displaying how childhood can teach adults much about ethics.David CloutierMount St. Mary’s UniversityDavid Cloutier David Cloutier is an associate professor of theology at Mount St. Mary’s University. He received his BA from Carleton College and his PhD from Duke University. He is the author of Love, Reason, and God’s Story: An Introduction to Catholic Sexual Ethics (Anselm/St. Mary’s Press, 2008) and editor of Leaving... (shrink)