Oh, I do so love discussions such as this! I wish we had them more often. There are a bunch of nifty minds in this group, and I love learning from you all and finding out how you prefer to tune your moral compasses.
I’m no student of scripture, just a lapsed Methodist who gave up the faith over thirty years ago, but I got the impression that there were many facets of Catholic liturgy and ritual that Protestants rejected in part because so much of it seemed needlessly ornate and baroque and esoteric and designed, it seemed, by the priests simply to wow the rubes with elaborate mystery and showmanship, as well as byzantine rules that tended to distract from the greater, simpler message of God’s love. I mean, John 3:16 is a very simple, direct, and straightforward hook upon which to hang one’s faith. It boils it all down to sincerity. Certainly, any faithless scam artist could follow all the commandments, give millions to charity, confess on the regular, perform any penance assigned, and go through all the motions without actually believing any of it… should such a person be admitted to heaven? On the other hand, someone who heartily believes in Christ’s sacrifice might yet miss a confession, or otherwise have a conversion quite late in life that doesn’t allow sufficient time to make proper amends… should that person be punished while the insincere moralist is not? To the Protestant way of thinking, maybe not. I dunno. I do oversimplify. I mean, how many Christians truly understand how the new covenant is supposed to square with Levitican law? I know precious few who’ve actually taken the trouble to read the entire Bible, and fewer still who’ve troubled to seek out other translations and really study them. My late brother was one; he became a born-again Christian in the 70s, and began preaching in the 80s. I never really had a chance to dig into the denominational nuts and bolts with him before he died.
I remember arguing about altruism in college. Some wag or other maintained that true altruism could not exist, because even if you didn’t expect an ecclesiastical or heavenly reward for Doing The Right Thing, your own self-satisfaction for doing it would be sufficient payment to prevent your act from being selfless. And I agree with @chenille in that there’s no benefit in splitting such hairs, because after all, those good feelings one gets for, let’s say, providing clean drinking water for entire villages at great effort and personal expense… those good feelings are nice and all, but they pale into utter insignificance when weighed against the actual, tangible, physical benefit to the villagers in question, or against the suffering they would endure if one did not act thus. And there are those (nonagenarian Jimmy Carter comes to mind) who do not rest upon their laurels and look back at their philanthropic efforts with a sense of “look at what a great guy I’ve been!” but rather keep their sleeves rolled up and ask what needs to be done next in the world’s long and never-ending list of the world’s needs. It takes a pedant with balls of purest brass to tell someone like Carter that his deeds are not selfless because he enjoys being Mister Good Guy.
At a certain point, the question becomes almost solipsistic if one dwells on it long enough. Is it selfless or isn’t it? Does it matter to anyone at all if I think I’m being selfless, or if I think I’m being a good person because I get off on labeling myself a good person? Too much time spent wrestling with that question is wasted time that could be better spent helping people. To my way of thinking, it’s a bit masturbatory and useless.
I think I’ve posted this hereabouts before, but lately I sum up my own morality with a couple pages from comic books:
From Preacher:
And from (of all characters) Beta Ray Bill:
Maybe it’s solipsistic, certainly it’s arrogant, but what the hell: I wanna live in a world that is run by rules I can either change or live with, and that requires rules that I can begin to understand. I don’t necessarily need to live in a world wherein evil is punished (see “justice” as described by @nimelennar above), but I certainly want to do everything in my power to ensure that evil is not rewarded. On the other hand, I do want to reward good. I don’t believe most criminals turn to crime because of evil intent, but rather because of dire straits and inhibited opportunity for advancement. I want to help others, not because I believe it’ll help me go to heaven (I don’t believe in it) nor because it’ll save me from damnation (don’t believe in that either), and not because of my children (I love them, but they’re gonna have to get by in the world as best they can, just like anyone else, and they don’t deserve any more advantages than anyone else has). I want to help make the world a better place, not so I can directly benefit from it, but because that’s the kind of world I want to exist. When I built my first Little Free Library, some people at the Old Place predicted someone might steal all the books, or burn it down, or leave fresh turds in it. I was betting none of those things would happen (and they didn’t) but not because I don’t know how shitty people can be. Rather, I don’t want the furniture of our lives to be dictated by the shittiest actions of the worst people. If we do what we can to improve the world in ways both large and small, I believe that the effect spreads, in the aggregate, and in the long term. I believe it’s always worth at least trying… not just because that’s the result my life experience has led me to expect, but rather because that’s the result I (somewhat bloodymindedly) want to expect.
It’s enough for me. I don’t believe that what goes around comes around. Plenty of chronic assholes die in luxurious comfort, never feeling a moment’s pang of regret for all the misery they’ve caused other people. So fucking what. My goal is to thwart them however I can while they live, not to become one of them myself, to ignore them thoroughly once they can’t do any more damage, and to undo whatever damage they’ve done as quickly and thoroughly as possible. Since I don’t consider myself answerable to any deity, I just have to please myself, my loved ones, and meet the minimum standards of the society in which I choose to live. I can accomplish a goodly amount within those strictures, since I am fortunate and privileged enough to have all the unearned benefits that being born a white cisgender male in 1969 America bequeathed me.
My life is more than half over, I’m sure. I’ve already outlived both my parents and three of my siblings, and for all I know I could be dead tomorrow. I have work to do, and I have no doubt that I will leave behind many more unfulfilled intentions than fulfilled ones, and that grieves me. But your ideal of kindness… yes, that’s enough for me. If I’ve lived a kind life, I will die in peace.