The Gilded Rule

I’m sitting at my dentist’s office as I write this so if a bit of fear emerges between the lines, it’s not existential angst but a more tangible response to anticipated discomfort. This is, I admit, a strange introduction to a reflection about the Golden Rule, but it should serve to ease us into the topic by putting the reader at ease because he is not here. Having unpleasant things being done unto others by others does not, after all, fall within the auspices and prohibitions of that rule.

Do Unto Others As You Would Have Others Do Unto You. I’m sure the Nazarene meant well when he issued that edict but he wouldn’t have known the pitfalls inherent in its words. If you are of the bent that ascribes godhood to him, you are left with the inescapable conclusion that he did and that presents a few problems of its own as we shall see. On the surface the gilded imperative seems a great idea, if we take the broader interpretation of treating others the way we would like to be treated but, unfortunately, words don’t work that way. It’s difficult to get ideas across in words but it’s the best system we’ve found so we have to expect the interferences, inferences and paraphrasing that language invites. The Rule is a case in point.

Unfortunately, as a Christian society we have tended to interpret the whole thing in a more literal sense than is good for our neighbours or our world. The “do unto others” part seems to lie at the heart of the problem as it obliges us to become actively involved in what comes next; “do not do unto others”, the lead in to the eastern version, removes the directive to action and is, as a result, less intrusive. The “as you would have others do unto you” part is the sound of the other shoe dropping. Now that you have been instructed to take action, this complement to the introductory phrase invites you to foist what you think is best on the poor sod who will receive the action.

It’s like this:

You are a boy scout/girl guide standing on the sidewalk of a busy street. You notice a frail old lady standing next to you and think, “If I was a frail old lady standing on a busy street corner, I would like to have someone guide me across the street.” Filled with the golden glow of goodness, you grab the little old lady and drag her, kicking and screaming, across the street, ignoring her protestations because she’s just a confused old crone who can’t make up her mind when it comes to crossing streets. Notice that the Golden Rule is silent on “reflect before you act” or “ask” and doesn’t concern itself with “knowing when to mind your own business.” (As an aside, silence is also golden but this piece of wisdom is so often ignored that it has been relegated to Victorian times and large bosomed great aunts.)

This view of the Golden Rule explains a lot about why Christians conquered much of the “uncivilized” world. It helps to explain why steel-clad, feather-plumed white guys would kneel on foreign beaches and raise flags and claim to have discovered things that weren’t lost. It may seem a bit of a reach, but when you get to be the arbiter of what is best and right and you think it’s best and right to be converted to Christianity then your expansionism, imperialism and genocide are a mere sideshow to the fulfillment of a higher purpose. (And you thought there was no connection here . . .)

As I touched upon earlier, the eastern version of the Golden Rule says, “Do not do unto others as you would not have others do unto you.” I guess in this instance Confucius, who said this some 400 hundred years before Christ said his version, had a little more time to reflect. (It’s not really fair to compare the two of them because Confucius got to sit around and formulate his teachings through reflection and Christ had this totally full slate where he had to run around dodging Romans and his own people, doing miracles, trying to clue in a group of dim acolytes, and yadayada.) It should be apparent that the confucian version of the rule will cause people to include an extra step in their contemplation of action by forcing them to put themselves in the other person’s place before doing anything rash. Funny how two seemingly similar statements can be so different in their effect and affect.

That’s not to say that Christians should all be running out to read the Analects (on second thought, maybe they should) but that they need to be made aware of the spirit behind the message (and I use the word ‘spirit’ in its non-metaphysical sense). A major problem with a strict literal interpretation not only creates a society of do-gooders but lies at the root of another serious disease – entitlement. I’ll explain my take on this in the sequel.

Any questions? Any answers? Anyone care for a mint?