Another consideration is that there may be major differences between 1) what it means to be a naturally good person fulfilling the requirements of a strictly natural moral being who promotes the natural good of others altruistically or in a rationally self-interested way and 2) what it means to be a spiritually good being promoting the supernatural good of others according to the divine will. The teleological view that is taken will make all the difference in the world.
Lewis uses the argument from desire in support of this. If we innately desire something that cannot be attained in this life, then that is strong evidence that we were created for something more than just this natural existence. In negative terms, if nothing in this life can truly fulfill us, then we were designed for some other form of existence.
I appreciate those thoughts; thanks for offering them
What interests me are those few non-religious thinkers who
almost go beyond a naturalistic ethics of pleasure and self-interest, all the while remaining within its circle.
Epicurus, ironically, came very close to articulating a Christian vision of altruism, as did – as is well known – the Buddha.
For example, Epicurus was celibate, in the name of intelligent hedonism. He believed that, “sexual indulgence has never done anyone lasting good, and one should count himself lucky if it has not done positive harm.” He ate extremely frugally (as did Socrates). He didn’t believe in money and riches, in the same vein as a comment from George Carlin that I recently encountered: “Trying to be happy by accumulating possessions is like trying to satisfy hunger by taping sandwiches all over your body.” In other words, it was a misguided way to pursue happiness.
What Epicurus did believe was necessary for happiness – and which he probably believed we underestimated, as most of us probably do – is the extent to which affection and companionship is a fundamental human need (although, on some level, we do recognize it, since a common human complaint is “loneliness”). He felt that loneliness was one of the most painful of human emotions, and that happiness was not an individual affair but an inter-personal one. Like the Christian, he emphasized communal eating; solitary eating, he felt, was fit for a wolf and not for a man. Epicureans had the reputation of being a very close-knit group, almost in the sense of “see how these Christians love one another.” This was based on their very strong belief that no one can be happy all alone (which they observed, perhaps, becomes more true, the older we get and especially as we approach old age). It was very much a “getting by with the help of one’s friends” philosophy.
He also recognized that there can be no friendship without trust and sincerity. Thus, he says, “when we love our friends, we love them for their own sake (as ends in themselves); even though the initial impetus for seeking friends is utility.”
From there, one can go pretty far into altruism, it seems. If others treat you well, you will tend to feel gratitude or affection towards them. When it takes root in your emotions, it is not a matter of the head, but the heart. If someone does a kind enough deed for you–especially if it is unexpected–you may remember it your whole life. If
enough people have done kind deeds for you, you will have much more “excess” goodwill – enough to spare, even, for those who would be your enemies.
Another insight is that anger, hatred, fear, jealousy (so potentially damaging to others) are self-destructive emotions. Fear is the origin of much cruelty and animosity – feeling threatened or “cornered” or attacked by others. If one feels safe, one will be calmer and less belligerent. Appreciating others’ good qualities is also pleasurable – taking pleasure in the good qualities of others. With gratitude, it is the same; gratitude is a form of taking pleasure. But, when you
truly appreciate others, then you will still value them for themselves, even if they are no longer in a position to benefit you. It’s as if you are putting something in motion or lighting a fire; after a certain point, it is self-propelling and no longer needs anything feeding it.
Epicurus, in any case, had two huge Christian virtues – he led a celibate life; and he expressed willingness to die for his friends (“no greater love has a man than this, to lay down his life for his friends”). The first was more purely pragmatic (he didn’t believe sex was inherently evil, anymore than excess of wine is inherently evil). The second was more sincere, though he didn’t see it as conflicting with self-interest,
even where he was willing to die for a friend in need. He simply felt that, when there is a true friend, one is capable of loving that friend
more than one loves oneself; that one forgets oneself.
It’s thus – as with the original Buddhist teaching – a conception of morality whereby morality begins through self-interest, but then flowers into something more genuinely altruistic. Although, even when you get into the highest realms of altruism via a Christian ethic, some modicum of self-benefit still remains. Love of God, for example, becomes a joy; or love of neighbor. The same with a deep feeling of inner satisfaction or inner peace. It is love without material expectations – without expecting anything in return (certainly not in the way of money or even recognition). But there is the pleasure of “virtue being its own reward” – of doing something with a glad heart, just out of the satisfaction of knowing you are doing it.