When We Lose Touch with The Tao (Tao Te Ching 18)

18

When men lose touch with the Tao,

they focus on legalism 

and charitable giving.

This leads to scheming;

then great hypocrisy ensues.

Genuine love breaks down in a family;

then relatives start to insist on family obligations.

The nation falls into chaos;

then people insist on partisan loyalty.

Reflection

 This is a chapter that got us interested in the Tao Te Ching in the first place. This text outlines what happens when a culture strays from the Tao and turns to parodies and cheap imitations of true virtue. It has a lot to say about ethical teachings, family values, and political engagement.

This chapter represents a Chinese expression of the form of ethics known as “virtue ethics,” sometimes called personalism. It is an approach to moral decision making that focuses not on the nature of an action, nor on human rules, nor on the results of a particular action, but on the character of the one acting, and the ethos in which we all act. 

Consider how this might apply to a Christian ethical context. If we think of the Tao, which means “way,” as the Way of Jesus, we might here identify it with the gospel. The gospel is the good news that the divine and the human are reconciled through divine grace. Theologians describe a person’s connection to this grace as a state of justification, which indicates a state of right relationship between a person and God. For evangelicals, this justification is entirely free of charge. Lutherans, for instance, have taught that justification is a gift that comes by grace alone through faith alone and on account of Christ alone. In other words, it isn’t something merited.

Then, theologians turn to growth in holiness, called sanctification. While justification is something that happens outside of the individual and is a once for all declaration of a reconciled relationship, sanctification is a long process in which a follower of Jesus learns to conform to the pattern of life Jesus taught. At its healthiest, sanctification is a spontaneous, free response of love, set free from transactionalism by the gospel of justification, in which a person serves God not through rituals or penitential acts, but through service to neighbors in need. 

Consider how this chapter might apply to churches. When churchgoers lose touch with the gospel, they start to focus on legalism, or the outward religious behaviors of a religious community. As they forget to actually love their neighbors as themselves, perhaps not even considering some (e.g., refugees or people of other religions) as neighbors. Nonetheless, they might quell their consciences by occasionally, and perhaps ostentatiously, giving money or some canned goods to the needy. They might attend a fundraiser or two and bid on a silent auction item to help an orphanage overseas. But ultimately, once a community focuses on legalism, their attention is turned not to goodness itself but to the appearance of goodness by avoiding things that look naughty to the community. This ends up leading to hypocrisy, which is often leveled at church folks for legitimate reasons. The “holier than thou” types, after all, often turn out to be not-so-holy on closer inspection. They are hung up on petty rules but fail to attend to the principles behind those rules.

Consider how this might resonate with a teaching of Jesus: "Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You give a tenth of your spices—mint, dill and cumin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness. You should have practiced the latter, without neglecting the former.” (Matthew 23:23 NIV) In this passage, Jesus criticizes over-reliance on legalistic precision and encourages us to focus on virtues (justice, mercy, and faithfulness) as the core characteristics of those on the true Way. 

It isn’t only religious people who find themselves in this sort of pattern. Consider especially the second half of this chapter. People tend to yell about family values when true love between family members breaks down. Perhaps you’ve experienced this firsthand: a relative first complains that you aren’t calling enough or spending enough time with them. So they turn to demanding that you call or visit at least on their birthday, anniversary, and a few major holidays. In such situations, they may get face time, but they might accidentally hinder true heart time, time when genuine love connects family members. 

This chapter perfectly describes our own day. The championing of family values by some religious folks, especially since the 1980s came precisely as families were disintegrating, at least as traditionally conceived. The virtues and ideals that once kept American communities connected seemed to be breaking down. Meanwhile, in an increasingly divided culture, folks all over the political spectrum tended to point not to big unifying values for all of society but to … partisanship. It’s hard to deny that at this moment blind loyalty to a political party, regardless of the facts, is as common as champions of holy ideals and heroic principles are rare. 

 Political life these days seems to be about ideological gangsterism rather than fidelity to goodness, truth, and beauty. Having been disconnected from the Tao and thus from the source of all that is pure, we find ourselves mired in flimsy attempts to look pure. 

Despite the grim reality that this chapter exposes, especially for those living during the phase of cultural breakdown, there is an implicit hope here. We can repent, which means to wake up and turn around. In other words, we can turn around and get back on the true way (Tao) if we let go of partisan bickering, virtue signaling, and conspicuous acts of charity and instead cling to the center, the Tao itself. We can return to virtue and eschew legalism. 

The context of this chapter serves to remind us that as different as humans are, they also share some common patterns of behavior. The Taoist sages tended to contrast their teachings with two other groups: the legalists and the Confucians. 

The Tao Surfers of old were particularly unimpressed with the legalists, thinking of them as immature in their ethical thinking, and rejecting the potency of using legislation to cultivate true goodness. The meaning of components of the Chinese character for “law” is 法 (Fǎ) is debated. The left-hand component of the character means water, and the right-hand side might refer to an ancient beast that can discern truth.[1] In any case, the aspect of water seems to be of importance. Perhaps, with the connection between the true way and water, lawfulness is identifying and flowing with the true way.

One etymological explanation we’ve heard is interesting, even if only legendary, is that ancient Chinese societies would keep large cauldrons of boiled water at the center of a village in order to provide a sterile source of drinking water. People would then regularly go to the village center in order to ladle out the water they needed. It was like a water cooler in an office in that it was a place people regularly visited. Therefore, it was the perfect place to post the statutes and regulations of the village. The Taoist complaint about this, however, is that instead of making people more virtuous, it led to folks gathering around the cauldron, arguing incessantly about the meaning and application of the rules. In other words, rules have a way of focusing not on true character and love of neighbor, but upon ways to justify unkind behavior by demonstrating how they are not technically violations of the written code. 

The only cultural state worse than a legalistic one is a culture in chaos. Arguably, this is where American society finds itself. This chaos need not be particularly violent, only chaotic in the sense that it has lost touch with the meaning, purpose, and source of virtue. Note how just a few decades ago, legislators on the right and left were worried about indecent words in rock and hip-hop albums, yet now pundits on the right and left are comfortable using profanity to discuss truly immoral behaviors and lawlessness demonstrated by members of all various political parties. In such a situation, we see people clinging to party loyalty rather than fidelity to truth. All is not lost in such situations, but the sage who seeks the Tao ought to pay careful attention and help heal the situation by pointing back to a way of life connected to the Tao not through legal coercion, but through connection to the Tao itself. 

[1] Pei-kai Cheng and Ka Wai Fan, New Perspectives on the Research of Chinese Culture (Springer, 2013), 79.

FINALLY: here’s a song from Australia’s Xavier Rudd that reminds us of the spirit of human brother and sisterhood…