
by John M. Frame
Prof. of Apologetics
and Systematic Theology
Westminster
Theological Seminary in California
I. Some Questions
This paper will explore the Bible's
teaching concerning human moral responsibility in relation to various
physical conditions: genetic and birth defects, illnesses, injuries.
Do such conditions ever influence our moral responsibility? And
if so, in what ways?
Dr. Jay Adams, father of the nouthetic counseling movement and grandfather (can we
say Godfather, without being misunderstood?) to the recent movement toward
biblical ethics in medicine, began our recent discussion in his
groundbreaking Competent to Counsel
[1]
by a biblically based
[2]
attack on the concept
of "mental illness." There are, Adams, argues, genuine physical
illnesses and other disabilities which affect behavior adversely. These
may, depending on the state of medical technology, be amenable to medical
treatment in some degree. There are also, he says, spiritual problems
which may produce morally wrong actions. These, he maintains, are
not the province of medical science but of counseling based on
the word of God. There is, however, no third category, no category
of "mental" or "psychiatric" illness distinct from the
first two. Says Adams, "...psychiatry has no exclusive province that
it may call its own."
[3]
According to Adams, the tendency of
modern secular thinking is to treat moral-spiritual problems as if they
were physical illnesses. Hence the "medical models" of
alcoholism, homosexuality
[4]
, various
phobias, compulsions, emotional instabilities and the like. Thus nouthetic counselors tend to reject such medical
models and to look for sinful roots to such behavior, roots which can be
dealt with through scriptural teaching.
Adams does recognize that there are
cases in which it is difficult to tell "whether a problem stems
basically from organic or non-organic sources,"
[5]
and he
gives schizophrenia as an example. He also recognizes that there are physical
conditions that "may affect the brain directly,"
[6]
such as "brain
damage, toxic problems, hardening of the arteries, and insanity by
gene transmission."
[7]
This last category, however,
deserves more attention.
[8]
For one thing, if as
some believe there is some sort of genetic component to alcoholism, the
rapidly developing science of genetics may uncover genetic links to other
conditions we are inclined to want to treat as "spiritual."
Further, the examples Adams gives raise questions. If someone's behavior
is affected by brain damage, does the biblical counselor simply refer that
person to his physicians and have no more to do with the case? Or are
there overlaps, criss-crossing areas of mutual
influence between the physical and spiritual realms? Is it not possible
that some problematic behavior has a plurality of causes,
some physical, some spiritual, which interact in complex ways so
that it becomes difficult to say, in Adams' terms, "whether a
problem stems basically from organic or non-organic sources." Is
it possible to engage in counseling without knowledge of what
factor is "basic?" Must treatment, in some situations, be a team
effort between physicians and biblical counselors?
Behind these questions lies a deeper
one, a question about the very nature of human responsibility. To what
extent do people remain responsible for their actions even when
those actions are to some extent the result of physical causes
or disabilities?
II. Human
Responsibility and Other Modals
"Responsibility" is what
philosophers call a "modal" term, as we can tell from its
"-ibility" ending. Modal nouns refer,
not to empirical objects like tables, chairs, trees, animals or persons,
but to the capacities, abilities or possibilities of those objects. To say
that a watch is immersible is not to say that it
has been immersed or ever will be immersed, but rather to say that it can
be, it is able to be, immersed without damage.
Capacities, abilities, possibilities
are mysterious things.
[9]
They cannot be seen
or heard. They may depend upon physical properties (as in the example of immersibility), but they are not synonymous with any
physical property or properties. They are often problematic in theology.
Examples: (1) How does one define divine omnipotence, the proposition that
God "can" do everything? Does that entail that God can make
square circles? If there are logical limits on God's omnipotence, may
there not be other kinds of limits as well? (2) What is meant by the "impeccability" of Christ? How does
his human nature differ from that of pre-fall Adam, who was perfect, but
"able to sin?" (3) How can we be "responsible for" the
sin of Adam? (4) What is meant by the "total inability" of man
without grace? (5) If believers continue to sin in thought, word and deed,
what ability do they gain that the unbeliever does not have? What is the
nature of that ability? (6) What is meant by the "impossibility"
of having saving faith without works? Does that mean that works are as
"necessary" (another type of modal term!) to salvation as faith
is? (7) "Can" one be saved if he/she does not believe X,
understand Y, do Z?
Complicating the picture is the fact
that there are many different kinds of abilities, capacities,
possibilities. Logical possibility is a different sort of thing from
physical possibility, and those two are both different from
economic possibility.
[10]
For an average man to
jump fifty feet into the air is a physical impossibility, but it is
not logically impossible. Thus, "can" is often ambiguous. Apart
from grace, one might say, human beings are morally unable to do anything good. But this inability does
not necessarily extend to the logical, physical, intellectual or economic
spheres. Indeed, in the latter senses they may very well be
"able" to do good.
[11]
Talk about possibility often
presupposes the existence or non-existence of certain barriers. We may say
"Bill can't jump six feet" without thinking twice; but in saying
that we assume certain conditions: Bill is not jumping from a trampoline
or in a space shuttle. There are, therefore, specific barriers
that prevent Bill from jumping six feet: his physiology, the
stability of the ground from which he jumps (as opposed to a
trampoline), the force of earth gravity. "Bill can't jump six
feet" presupposes those barriers or others. Similarly, "Bill can
jump six feet" assumes the absence of barriers sufficient to
prevent such an accomplishment on the occasion in view.
[12]
Now "responsiblity"
is a kind of passive modal, referring not so much to what we can do as to
what can be done to us by someone else. To be morally responsible is to be
liable to moral judgment, to moral curse or blessing. In a biblical
morality, the agent of such judgment is God. Human
"responsibility," therefore, refers to what God can do with us; it refers to the divine omnipotence.
[13]
What can God do with us by way of
judgment? Well, one biblical answer is, simply, "anything he
likes!" The figure of the potter and the clay stresses God's right to
do whatever he wishes with his own creation. See especially Romans 9:14-24
and Matt. 20:15 in context. This is an important
biblical "perspective." When we are talking about human
responsibility we are all too eager to talk about our rights, what we
deserve, what God owes to us. It is important to recognize that at the
most fundamental level God owes us nothing. And as a potter may make
a vessel for "ignoble use" and smash it after that use is
complete, so God has the right to do with his creations. Ignoble
vessels, in a sense, deserve to
be destroyed, even when they have not done anything to make themselves ignoble.
But that is certainly not the whole
story. For human beings are not only dust, clay in the potter's hands.
They are also the potter's image. And thus God does not treat us merely as pots. God is omnipotent, but
he exercises his omnipotence in accord with his character. Therefore,
his omnipotence will never act in contradiction to his wisdom,
his righteousness, his faithfulness, or his love. Because he is
wise, he treats his creations according to what they really
are. Because he is righteous, he deals with them according to
his revealed law. Because he is faithful, he deals with
them according to his promises. Because he is love, he works
through all circumstances to bring blessing to his people.
[14]
Thus to expand our
perspective is not at all to abandon the model of the potter and the clay.
It is, after all, God who works out everything in conformity with the
purpose of his will (Eph. 1:11). The sin of man
itself is not outside of the eternal plan of God (Gen. 50:20, Luke 22:22,
Acts 2:23, 4:27f). God treats us "as we are" because he has
ordained us to be what we are. To say this is not at all to excuse the
wickedness of those who commit sin. Notice the references to human wickedness
in the passages cited in the last parenthesis. Note also the
apostle Peter, as an example of one who took full responsibility for
his sin (denying Christ!) even though that sin was
predicted beforehand: see Luke 22:31-34, 54-62.
Now to get a full picture of human
responsibility, of what God "can" do with us, we need to
consider his wisdom, his faithfulness, his righteousness, his love, indeed
all his attributes (such as omnipotence, which is prominent in
the potter/clay model). Particularly, we must never forget that
as believers we are objects of God's grace in Christ and that
God deals with us in and through him. But in the space remaining,
I wish to focus on God's righteousness, the attribute which
is usually prominent in discussions of specifically moral responsibility.
God's righteous demands of us are
particularly revealed in his law, in the commands of Scripture.
[15]
The doctrine of the
sufficiency of Scripture teaches that in one sense, all of our obligations
to God are exhaustively set forth in scripture. Thus in one sense we all
have the same responsibilities, summarized in the Ten Commandments. Paul
is therefore able to say that the temptations each of us
experiences are "common to man" (I Cor. 10:13). As a man, Jesus
also had the same responsibilities we all have, and because of that
universal human commonness, the Letter to the Hebrews states that Jesus
was "tempted in every way, just as we are, yet was without sin" (Heb. 4:15).
On the other hand, there is also a
sense in which we differ in our responsibilities. For the commandments do
not apply to each of us in the
same way. That is to say, for those of you who are familiar with my other
writings, that there is a situational
perspective as well as a normative. We must know the situation in
order to understand what precisely the norm requires of us. I have the
obligation to read this paper to you today, because I previously promised
to do so and the ninth commandment therefore requires me to do so. But
most of you have not made such promises; so the ninth commandment does not
apply to you in the same way. The fifth commandment requires me
to honor in a special way Mrs. Violet M. Frame of Pittsburgh,
Pa. None of you has precisely the same obligation, unless unbeknownedst to me one of my siblings has entered the
room.
We also differ somewhat in the kinds
of temptations we face. Our temptations are the same in that all of us are
tempted to break the Ten Commandments or, even more concisely in that
all of us are tempted to renounce our covenant loyalty to our
Lord. But some people are more strongly tempted, say, to abuse
alcohol, than other people are. That difference is also a difference
in "situation." One person's heredity, environment, training may
be such that the use of alcohol is not a problem for him; with someone
else, the case may be far otherwise.
In general, our obligations, our
moral responsibilities, differ according to our gifts, our callings, our
opportunities. One who has the gifts and calling to be an architect, and
the opportunity to get the training and credentials necessary
for that profession, has an obligation to give more attention
to architecture than most of us would dream of giving. Similarly,
we can say that obligations also change with maturity (both
physical and spiritual). When Paul writes to Corinth
asking the people to set aside some contributions for the poor saints in
Jerusalem, common sense would lead us to believe that he is not
addressing children of six months and under. Those who are ordained
to the eldership have a responsibilities for the
welfare of the church body that "babes in Christ" do not have as
yet. Scripture teaches us "From everyone who has been given much,
much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much,
much more will be asked" (Luke 12:48). Thus Jesus is far more
critical of the Jewish leaders, who have been entrusted with
much knowledge, than he is of the ordinary Jews and Gentiles who
are relatively ignorant of God's word.
No one, of course, escapes from
God's obligations entirely. Little children have the obligation of hearing
and obeying their parents in the Lord. And ignorance, while
a mitigating circumstance as we have seen, is not an excuse.
The principle is "That servant who knows his master's will and does not
get ready or does not do what his master wants will be beaten with many
blows. But the one who does not know and does things deserving punishment
will be beaten with few blows" (Luke 12:47f; cf. Lev.
5:17, Num. 15:27-29, Rom. 2:12). That is to
say, no one is completely devoid of those divine gifts
and opportunities requisite for obedience. Sometimes ignorance
itself is culpable, since the person has the means to overcome
his ignorance and should have used them. The deepest desire of
the servant should be to know his master's will so that he may do it.
To what extent, then, are we as
Christians able to accept the principle that moral responsibility is a
function of freedom? That principle is commonly asserted in the
ethics literature. The basic point is that if someone is not free
to perform or not to perform an action, if he "could not have
done otherwise," as it is often put, he cannot be blamed for
that action. To use the most extreme example: if someone is in a
coma, but his body is manipulated by machinery so that he takes money illegally
from a bank, he certainly is not responsible for that theft. He could not
have done otherwise.
The basic point represents a
scriptural principle, but we must recognize the qualifications which
scripture places upon it. For one thing, there are outright exceptions. I
am not and never have been free to reverse Adam's decision to eat the
forbidden fruit. Yet God sees me, in solidarity with Adam, as guilty
of that sin. Similarly, I did not freely choose that Jesus would live
a perfect life and atone for my sins. Yet God sees me, in solidarity with
Jesus, as a doer of Jesus' righteousness. The principle of free choice
must be qualified by the principle of federal headship.
Further, we must clarify the concept
of "freedom" as employed in the principle under discussion. Some
philosophical libertarians and theological Arminians
often claim that no action is free unless it is "causeless."
On this view, free actions may not be caused, not by anything outside the
moral agent, not even by his/her own motives. But to insist on such
freedom is to see moral choices as sheer accidents, events which spring up
by pure chance. Indeed, since these "choices" are not at all
under the control of the moral agent himself, they cannot meaningfully
be described as his. And if one is controlled by such freakish events
springing up within himself, it makes more sense to speak of such a
condition as bondage rather than freedom.
Other libertarians and Arminians are willing to concede at least that moral
choices have causes within the
moral agent, whether motives or something else. But either these
causes are themselves causeless (in which case
again is raised the spectre of freakish internal
accidents) or they are themselves linked with the chain of causes God has
created into the natural world, in which case we may no longer equate
freedom at all with causelessness.
The fact is that nobody ever uses "causelessness" as a criterion of
moral responsibility. Certainly civil courts do not presume to determine
if an action is causeless before
passing sentence. They are not competent to do that, for the
negative proposition "There was no cause" is virtually
impossible to prove. (If a court were truly convinced that, say, a
murderer's behavior was truly causeless, it
would doubtless conclude that he was not guilty by reason of insanity.)
Nor do ordinary people feel obligated to make such causal judgments before
"accusing or excusing one another." Certainly there is no trace
of any such doctrine in scripture; on the contrary, scripture teaches
that human sin is within the plan of God, as I indicated earlier.
Then what is freedom? Freedom is,
like responsibility, a modal concept. It asserts, in various contexts,
certain abilities and denies certain barriers to the fulfillment of
those abilities. Bill is free to jump five feet if he has the
ability to do that by his own choice and no barrier prevents him
from putting his choice into effect. (The causality behind that
choice is irrelevant.) He is free not to jump five feet if there is nothing forcing him to do so against his
will. There are as many kinds of freedom as there are kinds of ability; in
fact, "freedom" and "ability" are nearly synonymous.
We have already seen that in
Scripture moral responsibility is limited by ability. In that sense, then,
and only in that sense (I would say), moral responsibility is
limited by freedom. Moral responsibility is limited by those
abilities which are coordinate with the gifts, opportunities,
callings, training, physical and spiritual maturity, noted earlier.
Not every ability is equally
relevant to moral responsibility. Significantly, I should point out that
moral ability itself, those character traits which permit the doing
of good, is not relevant to moral responsibility. One can never excuse
sin, or even mitigate his responsibility for sin, simply by denying that
he has good character. Imagine someone telling a civil judge, "I
couldn't help it, your honor; I could not do otherwise, because I'm such a
rotten person." The judge would not be moved by such a plea; nor is
God. Thus no one can use the doctrine of total inability to excuse, or
even to mitigate blame for, his sins.
III. The Role of
Physical Disability
But we can see how physical
infirmities can and do bear upon assessments of moral responsibility. One
who is unable to get out of bed simply does not have the ability to help
his team win a relay race, even though he might be otherwise
committed to doing so. He does not have the requisite ability to bear that particular
moral responsibility.
While maintaining this basic point,
we should be aware that the overall relation between the physical and
moral realms is more complicated. For one thing, not only does
physical disability affect moral responsibility, but our moral choices also
may have physical consequences as in the case of sexually transmitted
disease. A physical disability, therefore, may not be so much a divinely
granted exemption from moral struggle as a challenge to repent from grave
sin. On the other hand, the Book of Job teaches us that physical
disability is not always a sign
of moral guilt.
Indeed, sin may masquerade as
illness; hence Adams' examples of people who act in bizarre ways to avoid
being confronted with their sin. Hence our cultural tendency to misuse the
"medical model." Relations between disease and sin can
cause confusion in doctors, counselors and patients alike. Very
often we must deal with both disease and sin, and it is hard
to separate the two.
Even when it is not the result of
moral choice, physical disability does not take us out of the moral
struggle. Rather, it creates a new kind of moral struggle, a new situation
to deal with according to God's word. It is not only healthy
people, after all, who are called to make moral choices. Those who
are sick have an obligation to deal with that sickness in a way
that brings glory to God. They are faced with temptations
somewhat different from those faced by healthy people-- perhaps
especially the temptation to self-pity and the temptation to avoid responsibility
by exaggerating one's disability.
The same must be said about genetic
and other congenital conditions which in some way predispose a person to
commit certain sins. These may be seen as extraordinary sources
of temptation, and these people are faced with the peculiar
moral challenge of facing and overcoming these temptations.
Such conditions do not excuse the sins in question, but they
certainly do make the overcoming of those sins more difficult. They
also stand as a rebuke to the moral pride of others. Most of us
would be less harsh, impatient and unforgiving toward others if
we understood the extent to which they may have a harder
moral struggle than we. We must keep this difference in
mind, especially when we seek to offer biblical counseling to
such people.
"Disability," of course,
is a relative term. Compared to Einstein, most of us are mentally
disabled, at least in the fields of mathematics and physics. Compared to
Mikhail Baryshnikoff, most of us are physically
clumsy. We all, therefore, have "disabilities" to deal with;
accepting our finitude for what it is is always part of the moral battle. Learning how to
contribute to God's world despite our disabilities is always part of our
mandate. The physically disabled, therefore, are not morally different
from the rest of us except in degree, except in the situational
specifics. They also, indeed, have strengths, abilities, as we do; and the abilities as well as the
disabilities present temptations as well as opportunities for moral growth.
Keeping in mind the samenesses as well as the
differences will encourage in us a proper loving empathy.
IV. The Medical
Model Again
The above discussion should help us
to clarify the issues surrounding the "medical model." Nothing
in Scripture rules out the possibility that some physical disability might
predispose people to alcoholism, homosexuality, violent behavior (the
extra y chromosome?) or other sins. Those physical disabilities,
when treatable, can only be treated medically. There is no reason
why we should not give names to those conditions, such
as "pre-alcoholism syndrome." It would, however, be confusing if
we used a term like "alcoholism" for such a syndrome; for
commonly "alcoholism" refers not to such a syndrome, but to the
behavior to which such a condition predisposes a person.
So even if there is such a condition predisposing one to alcoholism, it would be wrong to call such a person an alcoholic (a predisposition to behavior is not the behavior itself, nor a deterministic cause of the behavior), and it would be wrong to call alcoholism a disease. Same for other predispositions to sin. Although the relation between sin and disease is complex, the two are not the same thing, and no good can come of confusing them.
[1] Nutley, N.J.: Presbyterian and Reformed Publ. Co., 1970; pp. 26-40.
[2] Others, of course, had also attacked this notion, but without Adams' biblical basis for doing so. Adams himself cites Thomas Szasz, The Myth of Mental Illness (N. Y.: Dell, 1960).
[3] Op. cit., 36.
[4] Granted, the medical model for homosexuality is already out of date. The present consensus is rather to treat homosexuality as a legitimate alternative lifestyle. Thus the secular mind moves, in my estimation, even further from the scriptural norm. One wonders to what extent the present medical models will, in the future, change into descriptions of legitimate alternative lifestyles.
[5] Op. cit., 37.
[6] Ibid., 40.
[7] He lists these as exceptions to his general exclusion of the "mental illness" category, thus apparently permitting the use of the phrase "mental illness" to describe such conditions. Such "mental illness," however, is clearly within the "physical" category; so Adams does not here compromise the exhaustiveness of his twofold distinction.
[8] I don't find that attention given in Competent to Counsel, but I would certainly not wish to claim dogmatically that Adams has never discussed this matter anywhere in his large printed output. It is very possible that I have missed something by him or by his disciples.
[9] The tendency in recent philosophy to analyze possibility in terms of "possible worlds" is useful in some ways, but it does not dissolve the mystery. It only pushes that mystery back a step: If a watch's "immersibility" means that there is a possible world in which that watch is immersed without damage, what is it that makes that world a possible world?
[10]
Doubtless, one could find a
different kind of possibility (or something like possibility) in each of
Herman Dooyeweerd's "modal spheres:"
numerical, kinetic, physico-chemical, biotic,
emotional, logico-analytical, historical,
linguistic, social, economic, aesthetic, legal, ethical, pistical. See his A
New Critique of Theoretical Thought (Philadelphia: Presbyterian and
Reformed Publ. Co., 1969), 4 vols. There are
other kinds as well. For example, I would define "metaphysical"
possibility as follows: an event is metaphysically possible if and only if
God has ordained it to take place. Or meta-metaphysical
possibility: an event is meta-metaphysically possible
only if God, consistently with his own character, might have brought it to pass. (I realize
that I have here defined one modal by another one, what "can" happen by what God "can" do.
[11] The distinction between moral and physical inability is often made by Reformed theologians; yet many would-be evangelists in the Reformed camp confuse their unbelieving hearers by telling them purely and simply that they "cannot" believe, an evangelistic approach not sanctioned by scripture and which is easily misunderstood as an encouragement to passivity. It may sound Arminian, but it is fully Calvinistic to tell unbelievers that in some important senses they can believe in Christ and therefore are responsible to do precisely that.
[12] Even in logic, possibility and impossibility often, at least, presuppose specific conditions. Two propositions are logically inconsistent, and therefore impossible to assert together, only when one claims they are true "at the same time and in the same respect." Change a time or a respect, and the impossible may become possible.
[13] Ultimately, all modals refer to God's omnipotence. As Van Til says, God is the source and criterion of possibility and impossibility.
[14] As to why God's love does not save all human beings I have no very good answer. Evidently such a universal saving purpose would conflict with his wisdom in ways beyond what I can discern. Scripture doesn't give us the answer, and I do not see how we can answer it apart from such revelation. I do think, however, that the non-elect also are objects of God's love insofar as they are cabable of receiving it; see Matt. 5:43-48, Acts 14:17f.
[15] I won't discuss here the important hermeneutical questions about the relation of Mosaic law to the New Testament believer, etc. There are enough commands given in the New Testament itself to underscore the fact that we are responsible to obey our Lord. I am interested simply in the nature of obedience to divine commands as such.