Musing on Goodness

Stop me if you’ve heard this before: the evil and murderous villain tries to kill the good guys, and the main hero—who is the only one capable of standing up to the villain—comes in to save the day. The hero appears, defeats the villain, and then to prove himself the “good guy,” doesn’t kill the bloody murderer. I hate this motif.

Good, the conception, far from benign, is perhaps the fiercest force in existence whether considered merely ideological or supernatural. It’s really more like bleach than the soft-soap we’re fed as children. Good is uncompromising as stone, but this is in contrast to you, the hero, who must, it seems, compromise to achieve any good at all. I find this faux mercy, this oversimplified good, of children’s television upsetting on two counts: It gives a poor image of good, and it provides an inefficient model of the hero.

God is good, they say, and then can’t understand a god who can show jealousy, who at times demonstrates anger, and throughout the bible demands absolute obedience, or should I say, perfect obedience. Why would God have us sacrifice, that is kill, helpless animals? or command His people to war? If God is good, that is, if God is like a kindly old gentleman content to see happy faces, letting sleeping dogs lie and so forth, if the goodness of God is the sort which Batman showcases every time the Joker has a timeout in Arkham, then God has some explaining to do.

This is not the good of which the Bible talks, nor what people should mean when speaking of God. Think, for a moment, of the good we understand through the moral law: is there anything about it which concedes? Is it not a wall unmovable, an unquestionable command? I imagine a critique: “It’s soft in that it tells us to be kind unto others.” Yes, the action morality directs us to may be in itself “soft,” by no means as a rule, but the imperative by which this command to softness on our part comes is itself not soft, not suggestion—it is the dreadful voice of God at which the Israelites fled in terror, saying, “let not God speak with us, lest we die.” (Exodus 20:19)

Such is one source by which we know goodness, but this idea of softness is not altogether in error. Kindness and mercy are good, but kindness unto a brat is not the same as goodness, nor mercy unto an evil. It is not good to spare the rode, for that sort of “goodness” spoils the child. Real goodness is hard, driving unto perfection, and that’s the point. God desires mercy and not sacrifices (Hosea 6:6) but to achieve the aim is described as one who hews a stone, cutting with his words (Hosea 6:5.) Those who make of goodness only kindness are caught up in the immediate and not the eternal, are putting the cart before the horse in showing mercy before the dreadful cutting.

I said it seems of the hero he must compromise to achieve good, I mean not that the hero should ever compromise upon the good, only that the ultimate good will lead him to compromise, or even destroy, what is momentarily good. We describe both candy and spinach as good, but they are different types of good. The hero sacrifices the candy for the spinach, and his clean hands he sometimes dirties. The perfect hero, Christ, sacrificed ultimately, first his glory in heaven, and then his very life. Allowing himself to be hung on a tree, he became cursed, and so to be the hero, the individual must also face being accursed. I deny not that there may be shame, indignity, in taking a life, but dignity is one of those things which, possessing goodness, is not good eternal.

God is good; to show mercy, though mercy is God’s desire, is not in every circumstance good.

I fear this post is rambling; I know that what I’ve written is closer to a wild stream of thought than a well prepared essay. There’s much more still to be said on the topic of goodness, and I’ve yet to give the opposition its full head.

(I’ve set the featured image, connected to Rurouni Kenshin, not in criticism of the show, but feel it does the best to argue against my points. It is aware of the debate, and though I disagree, I feel it constructs a cohesive and honest narrative regarding the issue.)