XI.   THE UNITY OF MORAL ACTION      

 

 

Can obedience to moral law be partial?  What constitutes obedience to moral law?  

 

A     Unselfish love is all that the spirit of moral law requires.  The love that moral law requires to God and our neighbor is good willing, willing the highest good of God and our neighbor in general as an end or as our goal in life.  This willing is consecrating all our powers to this end, as far as they are under the control of our will.  Complete consecration to this end is obedience to the moral law.

B     The next question is: Can consecration to this end be real, and yet partial in the sense that it is not complete?  This leads us to the second proposition, which is:  that obedience cannot be partial in the sense that a person can, partly obey and partly disobey at the same time. 
     Moral action is simple, that is, the choices of our will conforms either to moral law or totally differs from it.  This leads us to two questions.  The first question is, “Can our will make opposite choices at the same time”?  The second question is “Can we choose the highest good of others as an ultimate end, and at the same time choose any other ultimate end, or make any choices whatever that are inconsistent with our first ultimate choice”?  The second question concerns the strength or intensity of our choice.  If you can have only one ultimate choice at a time, can that choice be less efficient and intense than it should be?  Let us take up these two questions in order.

1     Can our will, at the same time, choose opposite and conflicting ultimate ends?  While we choose one ultimate end, can our will choose anything that is inconsistent with the first end?  In reply to this first question I observe:  

a     Our choice of an ultimate end must be our most important preference.  Sin is the result of self‑gratification.  Holiness is the result of unselfish love.  Can these two results coexist in our mind at the same time?  It is clearly impossible to make opposite choices at the same time, that is, to choose opposite and conflicting ultimate ends. 

b     Everything one intelligently chooses must involve either an end or a means to that end.  Our choice is synonymous with our intention.  If we make is a choice or intention, it must mean that we must either choose or intend something.  We must choose this thing for its own sake, either as an end or as a means to that end.  To deny this would be to deny that the choice is intelligent.  But, we are speaking of an intelligent choice made by a moral agent.  

c      This leads us to conclude that we cannot make any choice that is inconsistent with our present choice of an ultimate end.  We cannot choose one ultimate end, and choose at the same time another ultimate end.  It is impossible that we can choose one ultimate end, and at the same time, while exercising that one choice, choose a means to secure some other ultimate end that we have not chosen.  But if all our choices are related to either some end or a means to that end, and if our mind can choose only one ultimate end at a time, it follows that, as long as we choose one ultimate end, our mind cannot choose, at the same time, any end that is inconsistent with our first choice.  When we choose an ultimate end, we must will the means to accomplish that end; and before we can possibly will a means that would secure some other ultimate end, we must change our choice of that end.  If, for example, we choose the highest good of God and the universe as an ultimate end, and as long as we continue to choose that end, we cannot use or choose the means toward any other end.  One cannot, while he chooses the highest good of God, choose self‑gratification, or anything else as an ultimate end, nor can he perform any willful acts that he knows is inconsistent with that end.  In fact, he can’t perform any intelligent willful acts whatever that is not designed to secure his end.  The only possible choice that is inconsistent with his end is choosing another ultimate end.  When one chooses another ultimate end, then other means can be used or chosen, but not before.  Thus, it is easy to see that obedience to moral law cannot be partial in the sense that the person can choose two opposite ultimate ends at the same time, or that he can choose one ultimate end, and at the same time choose a means to secure another ultimate end.  He “cannot serve God and mammon” (Matt. 6:24)  I cannot will the good of others as an ultimate end, and at the same time will self‑gratification as an ultimate end.  In other words, I cannot be selfish and benevolent at the same time.  I cannot choose as an ultimate end the highest good of others, and at the same time choose to gratify myself as an ultimate end.  Until self‑gratification is chosen as an end, my mind cannot will the means of self-gratification.  This takes care of our first question.

2     The second question deals with the strength or intensity of our choice.  Can our choice of an ultimate end be real, but have less than the required strength or intensity?  The question resolves itself into this: Can our mind honestly intend or choose an ultimate end, and yet not choose it with all the strength that we need to choose it?  Now what degree of strength does God demand?  How can we settle this question?  The degree of intensity the end requires cannot be equal to the real importance of the end we choose, for the real importance of the end we choose is infinite.  When we choose to love God with all our heart and our neighbor as ourselves, we desire and seek their highest good, that is, what is best for them.  The importance of the highest good of God and the universe is infinite.  But a finite being cannot be under an obligation to exert infinite strength.  The law only requires him to exert his own strength.  But can he choose the right end, but with less than his own strength?  Since man’s strength lies in his will; the question therefore is, can he will the right end honestly, and yet at the same time withhold a part of the strength of his will?  No one can say that the choice is acceptable unless it is honest.  Can choosing an end be honest and yet less intense and energetic than it should be?  We have seen earlier that seeing an end is a condition of our moral obligation to choose that end.  (Condition: a premise upon which the fulfillment of an agreement depends; a stipulation; something essential to the appearance or occurrence of something else; a restricting or modifying factor.)  I now say that, since the light that we receive concerning the end is the condition of our obligation to choose that end; the degree of our obligation cannot exceed the degree of light that we receive.  In other words, we must be aware of the importance of the end as a condition of our obligation to will it.  The degree of our obligation must be equal to our honest estimation of the importance of the end.  The degree of our obligation must vary as the light varies.  This is the doctrine of both the Bible and reason.  If this is true, then it follows that we are honest when, and only when, our mind devotes its strength to the end it views with an intensity proportional to its present light, or its estimate of the importance of that end. 

a     We have seen that we cannot will anything that is inconsistent with our present ultimate choice.  If therefore, we do not choose an end with an energy and intensity equal to our present light, it cannot be because a part of our strength is used in some other choice.  If all our strength is not dedicated to our end, it must be because we are voluntarily withholding some part of it.  That is, I choose the end, but not with all my strength, or I choose the end, but choose not to choose it with all my strength.  Is this an honest choice, in light of the fact that the end appears to me to be worthy of all my strength?  Certainly, this is not honest. 

b     It is absurd to believe that we choose an ultimate end, and yet, we do not consecrate all our strength to it.  The choice of any ultimate end implies that it is the only thing we live and act for; that we live for nothing else for the time being.  Now what is intended by the idea that we may honestly choose an ultimate end, and yet, we choose it with less strength or intensity than we should?  Does it mean that we can honestly choose an ultimate end, and yet not at every moment keep our will at the point of being strained, and will at every moment with the utmost possible intensity?  I believe that the law of God does not require that our will, or any other faculty, should be strained every moment of the day.  God does not require that we exhaust our strength all the time.  If He does, it is obvious that even Christ didn’t obey.  I insist that the moral law requires nothing more than an honest intention.  Moral law assumes that an honest intention will and must secure only that degree of intensity that the mind, in its best judgment, sees what needs to be demanded.  The Bible everywhere assumes that a sincere honest intention is moral perfection; and this is obedience to the law.  Uprightness, sincerity, holiness, honesty, perfection, are all words that have the same meaning in the Bible.  
     Again, it seems to be intuitively certain that if we choose our ultimate end, we must, in the very act of choosing, consecrate all our time, strength, and being to that end; and as long as the choice remains, we must choose and act with an intensity that is in perfect conformity with our ability and the best light that we have.  The intensity of our choice, and the strenuous­ness of our efforts to secure the chosen end, must, if our intention is sincere, corre­spond with the view that our soul has of the importance of the end we choose.  It does not seem possible that our choice or intention should be real and honest unless this is true.  To will at every moment with our utmost strength and intensity is not only impossible, it would not be according to our soul’s conviction of duty.  The irresistible judgment of our mind is that the intensity of our actions should not exceed the limits of our endurance; that the energy of our body and soul should be so conserved that enables us to accomplish the most good over a period of time, and not in one given moment.  But to return to the question: does the law of God only require an honest intention?  Or, does the law also require a certain degree of intensity in the intention?      

c      Is the law of God satisfied with simple sincerity, or does it require that our choice be pursued with the highest possible intensity?  When the law of God requires that we should love God with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our mind, and with all our strength, does it mean that all our heart, soul, mind, and strength should be consecrated to this end, and be used up, from moment to moment, and from hour to hour, according to the best judgment which our mind can form of the need and appropriateness of strenuous effort?  Does it mean that all the faculties of our soul and body shall be straining to its limit all the time?  Does the law of God mean that our whole being must be consecrated to, and used up for God with the best economy which our soul is capable of.  Or does it require that our whole being be not only consecrated to God, but be used up without any regard to economy, and without our soul exercising any judgment or discretion concerning the law of God?

d     Are the demands of the law just?  Are they intelligent?  Does the law fit our nature, relationships, and circumstances?  Or, does the law have no regard for us?  If the law has no regard for our nature, relation­ships, and circumstances, can it be moral law?  Can it impose moral obligation?  It seems to me that the law of God requires that all our power, and strength, and ourselves, be honestly and continually consecrated to God, and held, not in a state of the highest tension, but that our strength should be expended and used according to our mind’s honest judgment of what is God’s best economy.  If this is not the meaning and the spirit of the law, it cannot be law, for it can’t be either intelligent or just.  Nothing else can be a law of nature.  What!  Can the command, “You shall love the Lord your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength,” require that every particle of strength, and every faculty, shall be in a state of the utmost possible tension (Deut. 6:5)?  How long could our strength last under such pressure?  What reason, or justice, or usefulness, or equity, or wisdom, could there be in a commandment like this?  Would this be suited to our nature and relationships? 

C    That the law does not require the constant and most intense action of our will, I argue for the following reasons: 

1     No creature in heaven or earth could possibly know whether he ever, for a single moment, is obedient to the law.  How could he know that he can’t possibly endure any more tension?

2     Such a requirement would be unreasonable, because no one could endure that state of mind for very long.

3     Such a state of constant tension and strain of our abilities can’t possibly do any good. 

4     It would be uneconomical.  More good could result by preserving one’s strength. 

5     Christ certainly obeyed the moral law; and yet His abilities were not always straining.  Every one knows that the intensity of the will’s action depends on how clear we see the importance of the object we choose.  It is perfectly absurd to think that our will could possibly act all the time with the same degree of intensity.  As our mind’s understanding of truth varies, the intensity of our will’s action must vary, or we do not act rationally or virtuously.  The intensity of the actions of our will should vary as our light varies, and if the actions of our will do not vary as our light varies, our mind is not honest.  If our mind is honest, what we do must vary as our light and abilities vary.

D    That our intention cannot be right and honest in kind and lacking in the degree of intensity, I argue:  

1     From the fact that it is absurd to talk of an intention that is right in kind, while it is lacking in intensity.  What does rightness in kind mean? 
     Does it simply mean that all we have to do is terminate our intention on the proper object?  But is this the right kind of intention when we choose the proper object.  Is there is a voluntary withholding of the energy we need to make that choice?  Is this an honest intention?  What do we mean by an honest intention?  Can it be honest to voluntarily withhold from God and the universe what know as their due, and what we know we can do?  We cannot call that honest.  In what sense can an intention be acceptable in kind while it is lacking in degree?  Certainly in no sense, unless known and willful dishonesty is acceptable. 
     What do we mean when we say an intention is lacking in intensity?  If this lack is sinful, we must know about it.  That is, we must know at the time that our intention is less in intensity than what it should be; that we will with less energy than we should, that our intention does not equal our own estimate of the importance of the end chosen.  But this makes no sense.  Suppose I choose an end, that is, I choose to love the Lord and my neighbor solely because of how important it is.  I choose it because I see the importance of willing what is in God’s and my neighbor’s best interest.  However, even though the view that I have of how important it is leads me to choose it; I voluntarily withhold some degree of intensity that I know of the importance of the thing that I chose demands!  Now, this is an absurd contradiction.  If I choose something for its importance, this implies that I choose it according to how important I think it is.  The happiness of God and my neighbor, for example, is a good all by itself.  Now, suppose I will God’s happiness and my neighbor’s happiness impartially, that is, solely because of its own importance; now, doesn’t this imply that the amount of happiness I must will to God and my neighbor must be according to how important I see that their happiness is?  Can I will their happiness for its own sake and yet prefer a lesser amount of happiness?  This is impossible.  Willing it because of its own importance implies willing it according to my estimation of how important it is all by itself.  Therefore, an intention cannot be sincere, honest, and acceptable, while it is sinfully lacking in degree.  

2     Just as holiness involves an ultimate intention, so does sin.  And just as holiness consists in choosing the highest good of God and the good of the universe for its own sake, or as the supreme ultimate end of our pursuit; so sin consists in choosing self‑gratification and self‑interest as your supreme choice or intention.  Preferring a lesser to a greater good, simply because it is our own, is selfishness.  All selfishness consists in a supreme ultimate intention.  By an ultimate intention, I mean something that we choose for its own sake as our ultimate goal or purpose in life, and not as a means to some other end.  Whenever a moral being prefers or chooses his own interests, over a more important good; the ultimate end that he chooses for its own sake is selfishness.  Every sin, then, consists in an act of the will.  It consists in preferring self‑gratification, or self‑interest, to the authority of God, the glory of God, and the good of the universe.  Therefore, it is a supreme ultimate choice or intention.  Sin and holiness, then, both consist in supreme, ultimate and opposite choices, and cannot possibly coexist.

E     We can only make five suppositions concerning our ultimate intention.

1     We can suppose, that selfishness and unselfish love or benevolence can coexist in the same mind.

2     We can suppose, that an act or choice may have a complex character, because the motives that influence the act may be complex. 

3     We can suppose, that an act or choice may be right, or holy in kind, but lacking in intensity or degree.  Or

4     That our will, or heart, may be right, while our affections, or emotions, are wrong.  Or   

5     That there may be a latent holy preference, or intention, that coexists with selfishness.

F     Now, unless one of these suppositions is true, we must conclude that a person’s moral character is either totally right or totally wrong, and never partly right and partly wrong at the same time.  Now let us examine these suppositions. 

1     We can suppose, that selfishness and benevolence can exist in the same mind at the same time, or they can both exist in our heart at the same time.  We have already seen that selfishness and pure unselfish love are supreme, ultimate, and opposite choices, or intentions.  They cannot, therefore, possibly exist in the same mind or heart, at the same time. 

2     We can also suppose, that the same act or choice may have a complex character, because of complex motives.  On this let me say: 

a     Motives are either objective or subjective.  An objective motive is that thing outside of our mind that influences our choice or intention.  A subjective motive is the intention itself. 

b     Our moral character, therefore, does not belong to an objective motive, or to that anything that exists outside of our mind that our mind chooses; but our moral character is confined to the subjective motive, which influences our choice or intention.  Thus, when we say that we must be judged by our motives, we mean that we can judge our character by what our intention is.  Now, many objective motives may be directly or indirectly involved in influencing our choice; but our intention or our subjective motive is always simple and indivisible.  In other words, our moral character consists in our choice of an ultimate end, and we choose this ultimate end for its own sake.  If the end we choose is the highest good of God and the good of the universe; if we are willing to promote and treat every interest in the universe according to its importance as we see it, our intention is right.  If it is anything else, it is sinful.  Now, the consider­ations that lead to this choice may be complex, but our intention must be one, simple, and indivisible.  

c      No matter how complex those considerations may be that prepare our way to make our virtuous choice, there can only be one ultimate reason for that choice, and that is the importance that the thing we choose has all by itself.  We must choose the highest good of God, the good of the universe, and every good for one, and only one reason, and that is, because of how important the good that we choose is all by itself.  We may choose something for any other reason, that choice is not virtuous.  It is absurd to say that something is good and important all by itself, but we can rightly choose it, not because it is important all by itself, but for some other reason; that God’s highest good and the happiness of the universe is an infinite good by themselves, but we shouldn’t choose it for that reason, but for some other reason.  Holiness, then, must always consist in a single eye or intention.  Holiness must consist in supremely and unselfishly choosing, willing, or intending the good of God and of the universe for its own sake.  This intention cannot be complex.  If it were complex, it would be sinful.  It is therefore, sheer nonsense to say, that one choice may have a complex character because of complex motives.

d     Therefore, the supposition that a choice or intention may be complex because of complex motives, is wrong.  If one still insists that our intention or subjective motive may be complex, that several things may be included in our intention, and our mind can aim at all these things, and that, because of this, we can be partly holy and partly sinful, I reply: 

1)        If, they mean that we can aim at or intend several things at the same time, I ask, what things?  Yes, choosing the highest good of others may include the intention to use many different necessary means.  It may also include the intention to promote every interest we can think of.  All of these are properly included in our one intention; but this does not prove that the subjective motive is complex, and thus includes both sin and holiness. 

2)        If we think a complex intention means that an intention can be partly benevolent, and partly selfish at the same time (which it must be to be partly holy and partly sinful), then what we believe is absurd.  Selfishness and pure unselfish love consist in supreme, ultimate, and opposite intentions.  To think that an intention can be both holy and sinful is to believe that it can include two supreme, opposite, and ultimate choices at the same time.  In other words, I can supremely intend to promote every interest in the universe according to its perceived relative importance for its own sake; and at the same time can supremely promote my own self‑interest and self‑gratification.  In fact, in some situations, I may even think I can supremely intend to promote my selfish interests in opposition to the interests of the universe and the commands of God.  But this is naturally impossible.  An ultimate intention, then, may be complex in the sense that it may include the plan to promote every perceived interest according to its relative importance; but it cannot be complex in the sense that it includes both holiness and sin. 

3     Our third supposition is, that holiness may be right in kind, but lacking in intensity or degree.  On this, I remark:

a     Moral character consists in our ultimate intention.

b     The supposition, therefore, must be that our intention may be right or pure in kind, but lacking in the amount of its strength.  

c      The law of God must test our intention, concerning kind and amount of intention we have.

d     The law of God requires us to will, or intend to promote, for its own sake, every interest in the universe, according to how we view the importance that interest.  In other words, all our powers shall be supremely and unselfishly devoted to the glory of God and the good of the universe.  

e     This cannot mean that our ability to obey must be constantly strained to its limit or in a state of utmost tension, for this would be inconsistent with our natural ability.  This would require a natural impossibility, and therefore be unjust.

f        That holiness is right in kind and deficient in degree cannot mean that, at all times and on all subjects, we must use the same amount of physical or mental strength; for obedience does not always require the same amount of physical or mental strength.

g     Since the law is just, it requires no more than this: that our whole being shall be consecrated to God so that we shall fully and honestly will the promotion of every interest according to how important we see it, and according to the extent of our ability.

h     Now the strength or intensity of our intention must depend on the degree of our knowledge or light concerning anything we choose.  If we do not measure our obligation by the light we have, then it could be possible for us to be under an obligation that would exceed our natural ability, which is impossible.

i        The importance that we attach to the objects we choose, and thus the degree of intensity of our intention must depend on how clear our view is of the importance of the objects that we choose.  

j        Our obligation cannot be measured by how God views the importance of those objects we choose.  Increased light increases our responsibility.  Increased light increases our moral obligation.  No creature can will anything with the same degree of strength that God wills it, because no creature sees its importance like God sees it.  If God’s knowledge of the real importance of objects determines our obligation, we could never obey the moral law either in this world or the world to come.  No one but God could ever meet those demands.

k      The fact is, our obligation must be limited by our knowledge.  If our intention is equal in intensity to our knowledge of the importance of an object, it is right.  This is the full measure of our obligation.  And if our own honest judgment does not become the measure of our obligation, then our obligation can exceed what we are able to know.  This cannot be because it contra­dicts the true nature of moral law.

l        If the intention, that we honestly will according to the degree of light that we possess, is not entire obedience to moral law, then there is no being in heaven or on earth who can possibly know whether he is totally obedient or not.  The only thing we can know for sure is that we honestly will or intend according to the dictates of our reason.  Our judgment, which we have of the importance of the object we choose, is, to us, an honest, reasonable judgment.  No moral being can possibly blame himself for committing a sin, when he is honestly aware that he intended, willed, and acted according to the best light that he has; for in this situation he obeys the law as he understands it, and so he cannot be condemned by the law. 

m   Concerning God, good willing or intending is always supreme.  With respect to other beings, good willing is proportional to how we view the relative importance of their happiness.  This should always be our intention.  Our efforts to promote these objects may vary, and should vary in intensity depending on what we are called to do at the time.  But we have seen that virtue consists in willing every good according to how we perceive its importance.  Nothing short of this is virtue.  This is perfect virtue for the time being.  In other words, virtue and moral perfection, concerning a given act or state of our will, mean the same.  Virtue is holiness.  Holiness is moral perfection.  The terms virtue, holiness, uprightness, and moral perfection all apply to a particular state of our will.  Therefore, to talk of a virtue, holiness, uprightness, or justice, that is right in kind but lacking in degree, is to talk sheer nonsense.  It is just as absurd to talk of sinful holiness, an unjust justice, a wrong rightness, an impure purity, an imperfect perfection, or a disobedient obedience.  Such things as virtue, holiness, and moral perfection never mean anything else than conforming to the law of God.  Whatever is not entirely conformed to the law of God is not holy.  This is what the Bible says in the book of James: “For whoever shall keep the whole law, and yet stumble in one point, he is guilty of all.”  (James 2:10)  The spirit of this text clearly and fully assumes the doctrine that we have been discussing.  It is as if James said that for that reason alone. 

4     Our next supposition is that our will or heart might be right, while our affections or emotions are wrong.  On this, let me say: 

a     This supposition overlooks the very thing that moral character consists in.  I showed that moral character consists in the supreme ultimate intention of our mind, and that this supreme unselfish love, good willing or intention, is virtue.  Now, our intention produces conscious decisions.  Our supreme ultimate intention directs our attention, and therefore it produces thoughts, emotions, and affections.  It also, through acts of our will, produces physical action.  But moral character does not lie in our outward actions.  For example, moral character does not lie in the movement of my arm, or in conscious decisions that make my muscles move; for such conscious decisions terminate on the action itself.  I will to move my arm, and so my arm must move by a law of cause and effect.  Moral character only belongs to my intention, which produces the conscious decision that makes my muscles perform a physical act.  So, our intention produces the conscious decision that directs our attention to a given object.  Attention produces thoughts, affections, and emotions.  Now thoughts, affections, and emotions are all naturally connected with conscious decisions; that is, if we direct our attention to an object, we will automatically produce corresponding thoughts, affections, and emotions.  These are outward, or physical actions.  They have no moral character.  Our moral character does not lie in our thoughts, affections, or emotions.  Our moral character does not lie in any specific conscious decision that directs our attention; but it is our intention that produces the conscious decision that directs our attention, which produces our thoughts and emotions.  Now the supposition, that our intention might be right while our emotions or feelings could be wrong, is the same as saying that our physical actions might be wrong while our intention is right.  The fact is, our moral character is determined by our intention.  If any feeling or physical act is inconsistent with our ultimate intention, it must be so in spite of us.  If any physical act or state of feeling exists that is opposed to our intention, that physical act or state of feeling cannot have moral character.  A moral agent cannot be responsible for whatever is beyond his control.  Whatever results occur that he didn’t intend is beyond his control.  Everything he is responsible for originates in his intention.  Therefore, his whole character must be the same as the moral character of his intention.  So, if temptations come and produce emotions within him that are inconsistent with his intention, and which he cannot control, he cannot be responsible for them.

b     Because of circumstances beyond our control, emotions contrary to our intentions may lodge in our mind; yet, by willfully diverting our attention away from the objects that produced them, these emotions can be banished from our mind.  If this is done as soon as possible, there is no sin.  If it is not done as soon as possible, then we know that our intention is not what it should be.  Our intention is to devote our whole being to the service of God and the good of the universe, and of course, to avoid every thought, affection, and emotion that is inconsistent with this.  As long as this intention exists, if any external object grabs a hold of our attention, and excites thoughts and emotions that are inconsistent with our supreme ultimate intention, all we have to do is draw our attention away from that external object, and the hated emotion usually will subside and pass away.  For, as long as our intention exists, corresponding conscious decisions must exist.  Therefore, there cannot be a right state of heart or intention while our emotions or affections are sinful.  For emotions are not sinful all by themselves, and when these emotions exist against our will through temptation, our soul is not responsible for their existence.  And so, this supposition makes moral character consist in more than what the law requires; for love or benevolence is the fulfilling of the law.

c      But some may say that the law not only requires unselfish love, or good willing, but the law also requires certain kinds of emotions, just as it requires performing certain physical acts.  Therefore, there may be a right intention where there is a deficiency, either in the right kind or degree of emotion.  To this I answer:  

1)        We are required to perform certain physical acts only because they are connected with our inten­tion.  And no physical action is ever required from us, unless intend­ing and aiming to do it can produce it.  If the effect does not follow what we honestly try to do because of some antagonistic influence that opposes our efforts that we can’t overcome, we have, by our intentions, complied with the spirit of the law and are not to be blamed if the physical result does not take place.  This is also true with our emotions.  We do have the power to direct our attention to those objects that are designed to produce a given emotion.

2)        If our emotions are exhausted, or, because of something beyond our control, whatever we are thinking about does not produce the expected emotion, we are no more responsible for the absence or weakness of that emotion than we should be for weakness in our muscles when we tried to move them, provided that our weakness was involuntary and beyond our control.  The fact is, God cannot blame us for not feeling or doing what we cannot do.  If our intention is what it should be at that time, nothing can be morally wrong.

5     Our last supposition is, that a latent preference, or right intention, may coexist with opposing or sinful conscious decisions.  I once thought this could be true, but now I am convinced that it cannot be true because:

a     This supposition states that a virtuous intention may exist, while, at the same time, conscious decisions may exist that are inconsistent with it.

b     Now, what is the right intention?  The right intention is willing, choosing, or intending the highest good of God and of the universe, and continually promoting it to the best of our ability.  In other words, the right intention is supreme unselfish love.  Now what are the elements that enter into this right intention?  

1)        The choice or willing of every interest according to its perceived importance.

2)        Devoting our entire being, now and forever, to this end.  This is a right intention.

c      Now the question is, can this intention coexist with a conscious decision that is inconsistent with it?  A conscious decision implies choosing something for some reason.  If we choose whatever can promote this supremely unselfish end, our conscious decision must be consistent with our intention; but if we choose something for a selfish reason, then our conscious decision must be inconsistent with our supposed intention.  But, the question is, can a conscious decision coexist with an opposite intention?  According to this supposition, our will can choose something for a selfish reason, or something we know is inconsistent with supreme unselfish love.  Now it is clearly impossible that this choice can take place while the opposite intention exists.  For this selfish act of our will is sinful.  It is selfish.  In other words, we choose something for its own sake that is inconsistent with unselfish love.  Remember, our intention is ultimate.  Our intention termi­nates on the object we choose for its own sake.  To suppose then, that we can exercise unselfish love, and at the same time, willfully choose something else that is sinful is absurd because it supposes that selfishness and unselfishness can coexist in our mind at the same time, or that our will can choose, or will, with a supreme preference or choice, two opposites at the same time.  This is clearly impossible.  Suppose I intend to go to New York City as soon as I can.  Now, if, while I am on my way, I decide to loiter needlessly for a while, I immediately relinquish one indispensable element of my intention.  In willing to loiter, or to focus on some other object for a day, I have to relinquish my intention of going to New York as soon as I possibly can.  I may not plan to completely relinquish my journey, but I must relinquish my intention of going as soon as I can.  Now, virtue consists in intending to do all the good I can possibly do, or willing the glory of God and the good of the universe, and intending to promote them to the extent of my ability.  Nothing short of this is virtue.  If at any time, I will something that I know is inconsistent with this intention; I must relinquish my original intention for the time being.  I may not come to the resolution that I will never serve God anymore; but I must relinquish, for the time being, my intention of doing the best I can to glorify God if I perform a selfish conscious decision at any time.  For a selfish conscious decision implies a selfish intention.  I cannot do anything to secure an end until I have chosen that end.  Therefore, a holy intention cannot coexist with a selfish conscious decision.  Therefore in every sinful choice, the will of a holy being must necessarily drop his supreme intention to love God and his neighbor and cling to the opposite intention; that is, the agent must, for the time being, stop exercising love so he can make selfishness his goal.  Our will chooses the means to an end, and of course, a selfish conscious decision implies a selfish choice of an end.

G    Having briefly examined the several suppositions that can be made concerning the mixed character of our actions, I will now answer a few objections; after which, I will bring this philoso­phy, as briefly as possible, into the light of the Bible. 

1 Objection: Does a Christian cease to be a Christian, whenever he commits a sin?  I answer:  

a     Whenever one sins, he must cease to be holy for the time being.  Whenever one sins, he must be condemned; he must incur the penalty of God’s law.  If he does not incur the penalty of the law, it must be because the law of God is set aside.  But, if the law of God is set aside, then that person no longer has any rule of duty; and as a result, he can be neither holy nor sinful.  If some say that the law is still binding on the Christian but his penalty is forever set aside, I reply, that to set aside the penalty is to repeal the precept; for a precept without penalty is no law.  It is only counsel or advice.  Remember, a law must have a precept and a penalty.  (Precept: a commandment or direction meant as a rule for action or conduct; rule of moral conduct; maxim)  God only justifies the Christian when he obeys, and God must condemn him when he disobeys.  Until he repents, God cannot forgive him.  In these respects, then, the sinning Christian and the unconverted sinner are on precisely the same ground. 

b     However, there are two areas where the sinning Christian differs widely from the unconverted sinner:

1)        In his relationship with God.  A Christian is a child of God.  A sinning Christian is a disobedient child of God.  An unconverted sinner is a child of the devil.  A Christian has established a covenant relationship with God; and this covenant relationship guarantees that God will discipline him in an attempt to reclaim him and bring him back if he wanders away from God.  “If his sons forsake My law and do not walk in My judgments, if they break My statutes and do not keep My commandments, then I will visit their transgression with the rod, and their iniquity with stripes.  Nevertheless My loving kindness I will not utterly take from him, nor allow My faithfulness to fail.  My covenant I will not break, nor alter the word that has gone out of My lips.”  (Psalms 89:30‑34)  (Covenant: an agreement or compact; the divine constitution or ordinance of God designed to govern human relations with Himself.)

2)        The sinning Christian differs from the unconverted man, in his emotional state.  No matter how it happened, every Christian knows that his feelings concerning the things of God has changed a lot.  Now, it is true that our moral character does not lie in our emotions, or in our will obeying our emotions.  Nevertheless, our consciousness teaches us that our feelings have great power in promoting wrong choices on the one hand, and in removing obstacles to right choices on the other.  In every Christian’s mind there is, therefore, a foundation laid for appeals to man’s spirit as well as his soul that gives truth a decided advantage over his will.  And many things in the experiences of every Christian give truth a more decided advantage over his will, than what unconverted sinners have.

2     Objection: Can a man be born again, and then be unborn?  I answer: If this is impossible, then perseverance would not be a virtue.  Only those who believe in a physical regeneration will maintain that being born again and then loosing that new birth is naturally impossible.  If regeneration consists in a change in the ruling preference of our mind, or a change in our ultimate intention, as we shall see it does, it is clear that an individual can be born again and afterwards ceases to be virtuous.  We can easily see that a Christian can aposta­tize simply by reading the many warnings that the Bible addresses to Christians.  A Christian may certainly fall into sin and unbelief, and afterwards, God can renew him to both repentance and faith.  (By the way, to apostatize is to fall away from one’s belief, to renounce one’s faith after backsliding in heart, a final and unchanging return to living selfishly)

3     Objection: Is there such a thing as weak faith, weak love, and weak repentance?  Answer:  If you mean comparatively weak, I say, yes.  But, if you mean weak as in being sinful, I say, no.  Faith, repentance, love, and every Christian grace must consist in acts of our will.  They resolve themselves into some form of supreme, unselfish love.  Faith depends on how clear or vague our intellectual understanding of truth is.  (Faith: confidence in a fact or person based on previous experiences or knowledge of reliableness and consistency; a phenomenon of the will in obeying spiritual enlightenment, given upon repentance of sins and trusting Christ.  Faith cannot consist in embracing what is not understood)

a     Faith, to be real or virtuous, must embrace whatever truth our mind understands at the time.  Various causes may operate that divert our mind away from the objects of faith, these causes may cause our mind to see only a few of those objects, or we may have a vague or cloudy idea of some of those objects of faith.  The more vague the views, the weaker our faith will be.  And yet, if our will or heart believes what it comprehends of the truth, which it must do to be virtuous at all, faith cannot be weak in such a sense that it is sinful; for if a man believes what he apprehends or perceives of the truth, as far as faith is concerned, he is doing his whole duty.   

b     Again, faith may be weak in the sense that it often stops for a while and yields to unbelief.  Faith is confidence, and unbelief is withholding confidence.  Unbelief is rejecting truth that we perceive.  Faith receives the truth that we perceive.  Faith and unbelief, then, are opposite choices, and cannot possibility coexist.

c      Faith may also be weak concerning its objects.  The disciples of our Lord Jesus Christ knew very little of Him.  They were so filled with ignorance and the prejudices of their education, that their faith in the Messiahship, power, and divinity of their Master was weak.  Jesus told them several times that they had little faith, and yet there is no evidence that they did not completely trust Him, as far as they could understand Him.  And although their faith was weak because of ignorance, there is no evidence that when they had any faith at all they did not confide in whatever truth they could understand.

d     Nevertheless, didn’t the disciples pray, “Increase our faith”?  (Luke 17:5)  Answer: Yes.  And, by this, they must have prayed for instruction, or more light; for what else could they mean?  Unless a man desires to know more about God when he prays for faith, he does not know what he prays for.  Christ produces faith by enlightening our minds.  When we pray for faith, we pray for light.  And faith, to be real faith at all, must be equal to the light we receive.  If we do not completely receive and confide in the truth that we come to understand, there is no faith, only unbelief.  If we completely receive and confide in the truth we receive, faith is what it should be, wholly unmixed with sin.

4     However, didn’t someone say to our Lord, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief”?  (Mark 9:24), thus implying, that he was exercising both faith and unbelief at the same time?  I answer yes, but:  

a     God did not inspire his response.  It was his own human response and prone to error.

b     It is not certain that he had any faith at all.

c      If he had, and prayed understandingly, he meant nothing more than to ask for an increase of faith, or for such a degree of light as to remove his doubts concerning the divine power of Christ.  

5     Again, some people object that this philosophy contradicts Christian experience.  To this I reply that it is absurd to appeal from reason and the Bible to those who rely on experience or observation alone, often without a proper regard for the truth.  Reason and the Bible clearly support the truth of the theory that I have presented here.  What experience then, do they appeal to, in order to set our testimony aside?  Why, Christian experience, is the reply.  But what is Christian experience?  How shall we learn what Christian experience is?  Why, surely, by appealing to reason and the Bible.  But, reason and the Bible both declare that if a man offends in one point, he does and must for the time being, violate the spirit of the whole law.  Nothing is or can be more accurate than the testimony of both reason and revelation on this subject.  Here we have the unequivocal decision of the only court of competent jurisdiction in the situation; and shall we fool ourselves by relying only on the fact that we know what we have experienced or observed?  What does our experience or observation makes us aware of?  Why, it makes us aware of those things that actually pass into, and lodge in our minds.  Our experiences and observations determine our states of mind.  These experiences and observations we know as facts, but we call them Christian experiences.  Now, how do we determine that they are Christian experiences; that they agree with the law and gospel of God?  Why only appealing to reason and the Bible.  Here, then, we are driven back to the court from which we had appealed to earlier, whose judgment is always the same.  

H    Objection:  But some say, this theory seems to be true in philosophy, but it is not really true. 
     Answer: If our intelligence declares that it is true, it must be true, or our reason deceives us.  But, if our reason deceives us in this, it may also deceive us in other things.  If it fails us here, it fails us on the most important of all questions.  If our reason gives us false testimony here, then we can never know truth from error on any moral subject.  We certainly can never know what religion is or is not if we must set aside the testimony of our reason. 
     If we cannot safely appeal to our reason, how can we know what the Bible means?  For we use our reason to get to the truth of the oracles of God.                  

I        I have just given you the main objections to the view that moral action is simple.  I will now briefly touch upon the fact that this philosophy is consistent with scriptures.

1     The Bible everywhere seems to assume that moral action is simple.  Christ told His disciples that they could not serve God and mammon.  Now by this He did not mean, that a man could not serve God at one time and mammon at another time, but that man could not serve both at the same time.  The philosophy, that makes it possible for people to be partly holy and partly sinful at the same time, also makes it possible to serve God and mammon at the same time.  This flatly contradicts what our Savior said.  

2     James clearly settled this philosophy by saying, that “For whoever shall keep the whole law, and yet stumble in one point, he is guilty of all”.  (James 2:10)  Here he means that one sin involves breaking the whole spirit of the law, and is therefore inconsistent with any degree of holiness.  Also, “Does a spring send forth fresh water and bitter from the same opening?  Can a fig tree, my brethren, bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs?  Thus no spring can yield both salt water and fresh.”  (James 3:11, 12)  In this passage, he clearly affirms that moral action is simple, for when he says “the same opening” he also means at the same time.  What he says is equivalent to saying that a man cannot be holy and sinful at the same time.  

3     Christ declared that only renouncing of all selfishness is regeneration or virtue.  “So likewise, whoever of you does not forsake all that he has cannot be My disciple.”  (Luke 14:33)

4     The way, in which God presents His laws, commands, and threats in the Bible, shows He regards nothing other than doing exactly what He commands as obedience, or virtue.  

J      I might go to great lengths to examine the scriptures, but now I must close with a few remarks.

1     Some claim that the advocates of entire sanctification in this life have resorted to the simplicity of moral action as a theory because it is the only consistent method of carrying out their principles.  To this I reply:

a     Both those who believe and those who deny the doctrine of entire sanctification in this life hold this theory in common.

b     The truth of the doctrine of entire sanctification does not depend on this theory, that moral action is simple, for its support; but you can establish this doctrine by simply reading your Bible, no matter what your philosophy of holiness may be.

2     Growth in grace consists in two things.

a     Growth in grace consists in a stable or a continuous holy, ultimate intention.

b     Growth in grace consists in intensity or strength.  As knowledge increases, Christians will naturally grow in grace, in both intensity and strength.

3     The theory of the mixed character of moral actions is a dangerous theory because it leads those who believe in it to believe that, even in their acts of rebellion, there is something holy.  In other words, there is some holiness in them even while they are knowingly committing sin.  This is dangerous because it leads its supporters to place the standard of conversion, or regeneration, too low.  (Conversion: a turning around or transformation implying a turning from and a turning to; a complete change from living for self to living for the glory of God and the happiness of one’s fellow men.)  They make regeneration, repentance, and true love to God, faith, etc., consistent with the knowledge that they are knowingly and willingly committing sin all the time.  This is a highly dangerous philosophy.  The fact is, regeneration or holiness is quite different than those who promote the philosophy of the mixed character of moral action think it is.  There can hardly be a more dangerous error than to say, that while we are aware of sin in our lives, God can accept us.

4     This false philosophy leads many to adopt words and phrases that are inconsistent with truth, and to speak as if God accepts them when in fact they are guilty of living in sin.  

5     It is wrong, unjust, and dangerous to say that Christians sin in their most holy deeds.  The fact is, holiness is holiness, and speaking of a holiness that co-exists with sin is nonsense.  

6     The tendency of this philosophy is to quiet those whose consciences accuse them of living in sin and delude them into thinking that they are accepted by God.

7     The only sense in which obedience to moral law can be partial is that if the obedience is intermittent.  That is, the subject may sometimes obey and at other times disobey.  He may be selfish for a while.  He may will his own gratification because it is his own and without regard for the good of God and his neighbor; and later, he may will the highest good of God and the universe as an end, and his own good in proportion to its relative importance.  These are opposite choices, or ultimate intentions.  One is holy; the other is sinful.  One is obedient, completely obedient to the law of God; the other is disobedient, completely disobedient, to the law.  These may succeed each other an indefinite number of times, but they obviously cannot coexist.