A review of The Ethics of the Faith: Right, Wrong, and the God of Abraham, by Ean W. Burchell

[img]2769|right|||no_popup[/img]Ean Burchell is not the first to offer remedial Bible studies to people who might not have paid enough attention to the so-called “Good Book” the first time around. Ben Akerley provided a look the Bible’s sordid sexuality in The X-Rated Bible, while Edward Falzon satirically paraphrased the Pentateuch in his provocative broadside, Being Gay Is Disgusting, Or God Loves the Smell of Burning Fat. The difference between this latest addition to an already crowded library shelf and those previous volumes, other than a distinct lack of humour, is a specific project for evaluating the ethical merits of the God (arguably) common to the Abrahamic religions – Judaism, Christianity and Islam. Setting aside empirical and ontological considerations, Burchell asks, “…does faith in Yahweh really offer us the only road to ethical relationships with our families, friends and neighbors?”

To anyone with knowledge of history and philosophy, and a lack of intellectual dishonesty, the answer is in itself clear: No. The history of philosophy provides the backbone for a long tradition of secular ethics. Yet the question remains worthwhile tackling given the number of believers who insist on chaining ethics to belief in some sort of supreme creator. With an approach that blends able summarizing of lengthy passages with direct quotes from the King James Bible, Burchell pores through the books of the Old Testament in search of moral guidance. What he finds, instead, resonates with Falzon and Akerley (among others), namely, that the events  and people described in Biblical stories run counter to our own moral intuitions and ethical reasoning. At the heart of it: A capricious, jealous, vindictive, and arbitrary deity with no compulsion against mass slaughter, slavery, xenophobia, autocracy and misogyny. The cruel streak underlying the story of Exodus should be well known by now: Yahweh hardens Pharaoh’s heart to render him resistant to Moses’s entreaties. Then he engages in collective punishment against Egypt by unleashing catastrophic death and disease on a population who have no say in their pharaoh’s affairs. This lust for blood, which fails to spare even children, carries through even in Yahweh’s direction of the Israelite conquest of the Promised Land, with Jericho only being one in a long list of cities subjected to total and indiscriminate slaughter. (“On Joshua’s orders, his soldiers utterly destroyed all that was in the city, both man and woman, young and old, and ox, and sheep, and ass, with the edge of the sword.” Italics are quoted from the King James Bible.)

On a smaller scale, Burchell points out inconsistencies and contradictions in the day-to-day guidelines for moral living. One example among many is the practice of usury: “Unto a stranger thou mayest lend upon usury; but unto thy brother thou shalt not lend upon usury.” (Deuteronomy 23:20, in contrast with instructions in Proverbs 28:8, which says “He that by usury and unjust gain increaseth his substance, he shall gather it for him that will pity the poor.”)

Naturally, Burchell also examines some of the better known stories for moral lessons, such as that of Job, for which he observes, “Job had suffered, and his children had died, because the omnipotent creator of all things could not endure a little taunting, very little taunting, by an “obstructionist” who, we must assume, he had also created.”

The overall insight, then, is that the morality of the Old Testament is ultimately rooted in the fear of God and the demand for unquestioning obedience. Fear and obedience  aren’t much of a foundation for a beneficial moral system that increases goodness in the world.

If a retelling of the Old Testament was necessary to achieve that insight, however, my money would be on Falzon’s considerably more entertaining book, which also benefits from reader courtesies such as subheadings and cross-references. The Ethics of the Faith, while certainly more thorough than Being Gay is Disgusting, suffers from monolithic formatting and a lack of citations for readers to look up for themselves.

So what of Burchell’s aim to unpack the Abrahamic trio? While he may feel compelled to lump Jews, Christians, and Muslims together in the category he labels “Yahwism,” the largely genealogical/categorical grouping comes at the expense of critical theological differences that emerge from a comparative study of the various scriptures. Pointing out the barbarities of the Old Testament is old sport by now, however glossed over by the mainstream. While Jesus may not have set out to overthrow the old moral order, the teachings attributed to him nevertheless alter the discussion beyond what the Old Testament offers. They require their own dissection. As for Islam, surely there is a greater need for us in the West to come to some understanding of what the Koran really does and does not say, given the on-going culture clash? Burchell’s meticulous and erudite summarizing might have been better directed towards this comprehensive effort instead of getting bogged down in the Old Testament. His core argument, that religion conveys no moral advantage, is one that many critics of religion agree with. What’s missing in The Ethics of the Faith is the legwork to justify it, along with an engagement of existing critiques by other thinkers.

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Frédérik Sisa is the Page's assistant editor and resident art critic. He can be reached via eMail at fsisa@thefrontpageonline.com, and invites you to connect with him via social media:

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