On breaking the law and Christian ethics

I took a required ethics class when I was first in seminary in 1974/75. The professor gave us an ethics exercise during the class quarter. I no longer remember whether it was at the beginning or during the latter part of the quarter. We were discussing criminal/civil law and Christian behavior. So, he asked us whether it was correct to break the law. Of course, we all answered that if the government tried to require us to worship another god, we would disobey, even if we ended up jailed. He agreed with us.

Then he took the exercise to another level. He started walking us down the crime road to see where we would stop. During my seminary time, it was common to know people who had gone through World War II. After all, if you were 25 in 1945, you would only be 55 in 1975. So, he asked us whether turning a Jew over to the German authorities during WWII was lawful. Should we refuse? Should we lie about any Jews we knew? Should we join the Resistance and have a private life different than our public life?

In one question, he threw the whole class into an uproar. For us, it was not a theoretical question. The WWII veterans could confirm the truth and reality of the question for those living in German-occupied lands. The class agreed we should not willingly turn a Jew over to the Germans. The professor pointed out that in German-controlled areas, one had a positive duty to turn Jews in. We replied that it was lawful but immoral. Christians should refuse to obey such bad laws. In one question, he already had us behaving as law-breakers.

He pressed us further. He posited that we knew where some Jews were. If the Germans came and asked us if we knew where some Jews lived, should we tell them or lie? At this point, the class began to split up. Some said it is so wrong to lie that we should refuse to tell the Germans and go to a concentration camp as martyrs to the faith. Others noted that it was OK to lie under these circumstances.

So he pressed us further. During the German occupation of the Netherlands, the Dutch were known for defending Jews and even hiding them in their own houses. I would recommend you read The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom, a person considered to be one of the great saints of WWII. When German officials came to her father’s house to ask whether there were Jews in the place, he lied. She lived there as well, and she lied also. She also helped to sneak Jews illegally out of the country in cooperation with the Resistance.

“In May 1940, Germany invaded the Netherlands. In only five days, the small nation was conquered. Approximately 140,000 Jews lived in Holland at this time. By January 1941, all Dutch were ordered to register and were issued identity cards. The cards issued to Dutch Jews had a “J” on them. In May 1942, Jews were ordered to wear a large, yellow six-pointed star with the word “Jew” printed in the center. Soon, the Germans began to round up Jews and send them to Auschwitz and other camps. The German reaction was swift and brutal: those who helped Jews were sent with them to the Nazi concentration camps. Although she was not a Jew, 48-year-old Cornelia ten Boom was profoundly affected by the “Final Solution.” She would soon be facing the most difficult decisions of her life. Cornelia recalls how some of the Nazi rules and regulations affected the people of Haarlem, the city where she lived.”¹ Below is a story from The Hiding Place.

The curfew too, at first, was no hardship for us, since it was originally set at 10:00 P.M., long after we were indoors in any case. What we did object to were the identity cards each citizen was issued. These small folders containing photograph and fingerprints had to be produced on demand. A soldier or a policeman – the Haarlem police were now under the direct control of the German Commandant – might stop a citizen at any time and ask to see his card; it had to be carried in a pouch about the neck.

Early in the occupation Haarlemers were ordered to turn in all private sets (radios). Realizing it would look strange if our household produced none at all, we decided to turn in the portable and hide the larger, more powerful instrument in one of the many hollow spaces beneath the old twisting staircase.

Both suggestions were Peter’s. He was sixteen at the time of the invasion and shared with other Dutch teenagers the restless energy of anger and impotence. Peter installed the table radio beneath a curve in the stairs just above Father’s room and expertly replaced the old boards, while I carried the smaller one down to the big Vroom en Dreesman department store where the radio collection was being made. The army clerk looked at me across the counter.

“Is this the only radio you own?

“Yes . . .”

He consulted a list in front of him. “Ten Boom, Casper, ten Boom, Elizabeth, at the same address. Do either of them own a radio?”

I had known from childhood that the earth opened and the heavens rained fire upon liars, but I met his gaze.

“No.”

Only as I walked out of the building did I begin to tremble. Not because for the first time in my life I had told a conscious lie, but because it had been so dreadfully easy.²

The ten Boom family went on to be prolific liars. Yet, they saved many Jews. Eventually, they were caught and sent to a concentration camp. Every member of her family died. Only she lived. After the war, she became a great Protestant evangelist, telling the story of her lies as she called people to Christ. Eventually, the State of Israel recognized her with the title Righteous Among the Nations for her effort to shelter Jews.

But in our class, some were horrified that she, and her family, had lied. Those students insisted that the ten Boom family had sinned. They should have trusted God and told the truth or remained silent and taken the punishment for breaking the law. The professor pointed out that had they told the truth, the Jewish family hiding in their house would all be dead now. The students understood but were convinced of their stand. Thou shalt not lie was seen as an unbreakable commandment.

The professor took us on to other examples. But, it became clear that there were those students who saw certain limits as being unbreakable regardless of the circumstances. Other students saw governmental law as calling us to obedience only if the events showed it to be moral to obey the law. Regardless of the examples the professor gave, it boiled down to those two groups.

The same type of division was present during the Vietnam War. Many Quaker and Mennonite groups refused to pay the percentage of their income taxes that reflected the portion of the national budget spent on the war. Many other Christians condemned them for it, saying that they must obey the government. Various Catholic priests were involved in anti-war activities. The debate was virulent.

There is no good solution to the question of how far to go in disobeying the government. All agree that if we are told to worship another god, we must refuse unto death. But, after that it quickly becomes increasingly gray. I do not believe that there has ever been complete agreement on where you cross the line and become a disobedient person. By and large, we all agree that matters such as speed limits and zoning laws ought to be obeyed, and that utility bills need to be paid. But that gray area has always triggered severe disagreements among Christians. See, for instance, Romans 14 and 1 Corinthians 8.

Perhaps the advice I can give is the same as St. Paul’s. “Therefore, let us stop passing judgment on one another. Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in the way of a brother or sister. I am convinced, being fully persuaded in the Lord Jesus, that nothing is unclean in itself. But if anyone regards something as unclean, then for that person, it is unclean. If your brother or sister is distressed because of what you eat, you are no longer acting in love. Do not by your eating destroy someone for whom Christ died. Therefore do not let what you know is good be spoken of as evil.”³

I am in no way implying that there are no limits. But, I am saying that there are some gray areas in which we need to respect the boundaries of others, and they need to respect our limits. More than that, if you know that your limits are within a reasonable Orthodoxy, you can act in faith while not doing it so that it offends those who have different limits. If you have strict boundaries, be cautious not to set yourself up as an authority on limits. Make sure any actions you take are of faith because if you violate your strict limits, then for you, it is sin.

1. http://holocaust.umd.umich.edu/lul/Lesson%2014/lesson14.html [↩]
2. Boom, Corrie, John Sherrill, and Elizabeth Sherrill. 1971. The Hiding Place. New York, NY: Bantam [↩]
3. Romans 14:13-16 NIV [↩]