High school students need
clear rules applied fairly. Chaos reigns in classrooms and hallways when rules
are too vague or are unevenly applied. Teachers in a well-ordered school
automatically dismiss a misbehaving student’s plea: “I didn’t know there was a
rule.” Of course, the student really means: “I didn’t know I would get caught.”
Moral formation occurs in high school. It is
impossible, however, in a high school classroom to teach the difference between
private morality and public morality or the difference between rules and
pastoral guidance.
Some
years after graduation many students do though draw upon their high school
experience to appreciate these differences. For example, three or four
students, now a year or two out of college, meet. They note that a former
teacher, maybe a religious brother or nun, has recently married and has
disclosed—for whatever reason—a decade long dating relationship. “The private
hypocrisy is irrelevant to the competence the teacher displayed in the
classroom,” the former students conclude.
“Well,
what about abuse,” one of them asks? “That’s not private morality,” one of them
correctly asserts. “Abuse by a teacher is misusing public authority.”
These
same former students can always recall an incident from high school where they
got caught misbehaving and yet where a strict teacher or dean “let us off the
hook” or “said a couple words and let us go.” Why? The incident was just before
an important football game or because a student was already reeling from some
sad news.
Some
adults, it seems, have a low tolerance for ambiguity. Some of the low ambiguity
types want church officials to clearly declare and consistently enforce rules.
Others among the low ambiguity types want to make their way without any rules,
without as it were any second guessing. All of the low ambiguity types are
unable to hold onto the creative tension between private morality and public
morality or the tension between rules and pastoral guidance. One type says: If
any rule is loosened, the moral threads of society will eventually all pull
away. The other type says: If there are any rules at all, there is no freedom.
A proper
tension between rules and pastoral practice is not relativism. It is adult
maturity. It is a tension. Habitually drifting into pastoral practice quickly
leads to a life of making exception, to soft relativism. Habitually drifting
into rules is soon associated with hypocrisy and righteous judgment of others
and often with scrupulosity.
Both of
the low ambiguity types are currently having their say over Pope Francis’
letter about marriage and family life—commenting almost exclusively on its
passages about divorce and the Eucharist. One type thinks any change in “the
rule” about Eucharist and divorce will lead to a wholesale forfeit of morality.
The other type thinks “any rule” about lifestyles or the definition of marriage
is a violation of rights.
A
handful of major themes emerge from Jesus’ life and teaching. Number one is
probably: Repent and be saved. Number two is: Never allow the rules to inhibit
compassion.
Adult
life is hard. A parent, a teacher, a union steward, a judge, a pastor and
others have to continually keep seeming contradictions in creative tension.
It’s hard, but real life is lots of fun for those who keep tensions afloat.
Droel edits INITIATIVES
(PO Box 291102, Chicago, IL 60629) a print newsletter about faith and work.