What role does the honor commandment play in contemporary law and culture? Answering this question is especially pertinent in the early twenty-first century. With advances in longevity and declining birth rates, a growing percentage of the population is graying. In 2015, there were 901 million people aged sixty or over worldwide; a number projected to rise to 1.4 billion in 2030. By 2050, there will be more persons over the age of sixty than children under the age of fifteen. As the number of our global elders grows, so too will the number of those needing and providing physical and financial care.

In this article, we present a short case study based on an incident that occurred in Israel several years ago. The incident did not reach the courts but was made public by the family members of the older woman at the center of it. The family argued that the actions taken by one of the parties involved should have been defined as elder abuse, but no criminal charges were ever brought. Yet the issues concern key legal and ethical questions about law, religion, and older persons. More specifically, the incident raises the issue of the moral commitment to one's past religious beliefs in reference to one's current choices and preferences once living with dementia. We contend in this article that an Aristotelean account of human dignity would have provided the most satisfactory way to resolve the tensions created by this incident.

Romans 13:1–7 has been the most important text in scripture for Christian reflection on political authority, yet what it does not say has left Christian social ethicists and political/legal theorists with many lingering questions, especially about the proper response to unjust magistrates. To what resources should Christian thinkers look to illumine the gaps left by the Pauline silence, and just how absolute or relative did Paul intend his remarks in Romans 13:1–7 to be? This article presents a twofold thesis in response to this twofold question. First, it argues that the Noahic covenant, Genesis 8:21–9:17, is an important, although overlooked, background resource for interpreting Romans 13:1–7. Second, this article illustrates the practical benefit of reading Romans 13 in light of the Noahic covenant by offering a new argument for why Christians should not interpret Paul's unqualified command to submit to civil authorities as absolutely forbidding resistance to unjust magistrates. Paul's words about magistrates in Romans 13 have not superseded the obligation to pursue justice that God gave to the human community as a whole in the Noahic covenant. Thus the primal obligation resting in the people implicitly qualifies Paul's instructions.

Three recent books focused on law, gender, and Islam not only make important individual contributions to the field of law and religion, but together, in their attention to issues of gender, sex, violence, and law, signal an important development in both this field and the field of Islamic studies. This state of the field essay examines Kecia Ali's revised and expanded edition of Sexual Ethics and Islam, Ayesha Chaudhry's Domestic Violence and the Islamic Tradition, and Hina Azam's Sexual Violation in Islamic Law. Individually and collectively, these works shed light on the way that societies use gender as a fundamental tool of social organization and hierarchy. While Ali, Chaudhry, and Azam focus mainly on the classical Sunni Islamic tradition, their insight has wider methodological import for the study of law and religion. Further, they illuminate the intellectual diversity within the Islamic tradition, both in the past and in the present. In doing so, they draw attention to the process of how the intellectual tradition is retrieved and appropriated in contemporary contexts. Finally, their work is historical and descriptive as well as normative: this kind of scholarship challenges the distinction in the study of religion between these two categories. Ali, Chaudhry, and Azam each places her observations and arguments about classical Sunni Islamic texts and traditions in productive conversation with ethical and legal questions that Muslims face today.

In this essay, analyzing the “daughter track” of daughter-provided elder care, through feminist philosopher Lisa Tessman's “burdened virtues” framework, I examine the ethical questions surrounding gender, sacrifice, and elder care on the daughter track, particularly concerning contexts of virtue and necessity. Second, I examine how Tessman's “burdened virtues” framework applies to the “daughter track” situation, particularly regarding virtues born of necessity. Third, I examine some wider legal and social justice issues that remain unresolved in eldercare provision by daughters. Finally, I conclude with some reflections on the “daughter track” as a law and religion issue and how law, in particular, might better support women in being not only “dutiful daughters,” but “graceful pillars,” in the care of their elders.

The salience of rights talk in Western cultures has generated constructive responses from various religious traditions. This article contributes to this religious hermeneutic by turning to the first-generation Spanish theologians of the sixteenth-century School of Salamanca, Francisco de Vitoria and Domingo de Soto, as important resources for Christian rights talk. These late scholastic thinkers made the image of God doctrine, as transmitted by Thomas Aquinas, the basis for affirming the worth and human natural rights of Amerindian peoples. To highlight the contemporary relevance of the school, the article engages Nicholas Wolterstorff's recent work on rights and his twofold critique of a capacities approach to human dignity and a virtues approach to justice. The School of Salamanca not only addresses the important concerns raised by Wolterstorff but uniquely offers a view of rights inextricably linked to human capacities and Christian virtue that highlights both the patient and agential dimensions of justice. They provide a critical theological challenge to the dominant secular liberal view of rights in a way that Wolterstorff's account does not.

This essay summarizes crucial ways that society—in particular, the United States—has treated claims by individuals to be free of generally required duties because their convictions tell them that performing the duties is deeply wrong. Among the topics I address are how the Supreme Court decisions involving constitutional rights and organizational claims relate to this treatment, but my main focus is on what I see as the critical issues and what I believe to be the wise choices for addressing such claims. Without attempting an extensive account of all that has been written on claims of exemptions, I refer to some relatively recent books that can help one to understand what is at stake and what can be said in favor of competing positions. I also provide references to recent and forthcoming work of my own that explores claims of exemptions in greater depth.

In the United States, informal elder care is principally the responsibility of younger relatives. Adult children perform the majority of elder care and non-relatives perform only 14 percent of care. Caregiving in the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender, or LGBT, community follows a very different pattern that reflects the importance of “chosen family” in the lives of LGBT older adults. Instead of relying on relatives, LGBT older adults largely care for each other. Relatives provide only 11 percent of all elder care. This article explores the high level of caregiving by non-relatives in the LGBT community. It asks what motivates friends, neighbors, and community members to provide care for someone whom the law considers a legal stranger. It also asks what steps policy makers can take to facilitate and encourage this type of caregiving. Finally, it asks what lessons can be learned from LGBT older adults about the nature of both caregiving and community. As the aging population becomes more diverse, aging policies will have to become more inclusive to address the differing needs of various communities, including LGBT older adults. The potential lessons learned from the pattern of elder care in the LGBT community, however, extend far beyond a simple commitment to diversity.

The question of the sources of legal normativity continues to haunt legal theorists to this day. While it is largely uncontroversial that modern legal systems claim to produce normative propositions, whether or not there are independent reasons to obey the law remains a contested issue. Those views, as varied as they may be, appear to largely agree that the law is a social phenomenon of definite ontological presence. In this article, I argue, through an analysis of the theories of three prominent ninth- to eleventh-century Muslim jurists, that early Muslim theories of lawmaking did not incorporate any ontologically coherent concept of law. Rather, lawmaking was understood as the case-by-case formulation of legal opinions by individual jurists who were presumed to be driven by the same moral drive, and therefore occupy the same moral order, as all subjects of law. In spite of this ad hoc epistemological view, Islamic jurisprudence conceived of legal pronouncements as fully normative. The normativity of those unstructured ad hoc individual pronouncements, I maintain, is the result of the centrality of moral purpose to early Muslim theories of law. It was the presumption of a common moral drive that gave the legal system structural coherence and allowed the advancement of those pronouncements as normative claims. Whereas recent historical and anthropological work shows that moral motivation was central to the manner in which sharīʿa operated as a system of social regulation, this article argues, along the same lines, that the pietistic drive was both conceptually and structurally indispensable for the normative coherence of early Islamic jurisprudence.

Among the many individuals and groups espousing affiliation with the Moorish Science Temple of America movement, some continue founding prophet Noble Drew Ali's emphasis on engaging in American citizenship as a religious duty, while others interpret the prophet's scriptures to lend authority to claims of being outside the jurisdiction of American legal authority. Such sovereign Moors, whose actions range from declaration of secession to rejection of drivers or marriage licenses, advance legal discourse rooted in historical narratives, tailor their legal thinking toward practical instruction and efficacious results, and appeal to etymology to further authorize their claims. Such sovereign Moorish legal discourse is best understood, following Catherine Wessinger's work on the Montana Freemen, as “magical,” and understanding the magical role played by legal texts and discourse within these communities can help scholars and legal professionals in their approach to and interactions with sovereign Moors.

Christian sermons characteristically result from the interaction of a biblical text and the social and cultural contexts in which the sermon is created and into which it is spoken. In this regard, biblical texts are understood not as containers of unchanging truth but as fields of meaning capable of yielding different insights in each new context, and sermons constitute oral performances of these insights. As a test case, American Christian sermons based upon the so-called fifth commandment (“Honor your father and your mother …”) were examined from two time periods: 1960–1980 and 2000–present. In the earlier period, a time of anxiety about changing norms of social authority, the sermons typically presented the fifth commandment as addressed to young children, calling them to obey their parents. In the later period, a time when the large baby boomer generation is increasingly assuming care for aging parents, the sermons typically presented the fifth commandment as addressed not to youth but rather to adults charged with the responsibility to care for the elderly. While understanding the fifth commandment as addressed to adult children is probably closer to the original meaning of the text, both audiences for the commandment (adult children and youthful children) are within the field of meaning of the text and, indeed, both understandings find expression elsewhere in scripture.

This is a self-indulgent, and perforce idiosyncratic, excursus into some (but by no means all) of the vast body of literature that has been published in recent years touching on secularism and cultural heritage in Europe, surveyed from the vantage point of law and religion scholarship. It was commissioned by the Journal of Law and Religion as part of its ambitious project for sharply focused and widely angled snapshots of the state of the field at the present moment.1 And, for this English writer, with this particular topic, the moment could not be more propitious.

Edward Snowden, the systems analyst employed by a contractor for the United States National Security Agency, violated his contractual obligation to guard the nation's secrets and security procedures out of what he has argued was a higher obligation to preserve the privacy guaranteed to Americans by the United States Constitution and a conscientious objection to withholding information about violations of that privacy. Conscience can be conceived as a disposition of heart, mind, and will to act or refuse to act in the face of contravening authority, for what is a superior good in the mind of the actor, and always with the willingness to suffer for one's action or inaction. Snowden ultimately sought to divulge and disrupt programs of intelligence gathering and national security because of his convictions regarding nobler American ideals of liberty and privacy.

The last decade has seen the publication in North America of a plethora of academic books and articles about polygamy. The most important texts on the subject, however, are two court rulings evaluating the constitutionality of criminal prohibitions against the practice of polygamy. Informed by and in dialogue with this academic discourse, these courts arrived at dramatically different conclusions. In Reference re s. 293 of the Criminal Code of Canada, the Supreme Court of British Columbia determined that while Mormon fundamentalist polygamists had religious freedom rights under Section 2 of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms to practice this aspect of their bona fide religious faith, the government of Canada was justified in limiting this right under Section 1 of the Charter. Prohibiting polygamy was necessary, the court found, in order to prevent the real and substantial risk of harm that it posed to women and children.1 Conversely, in the United States, a trial-level court in Utah issued a summary judgment finding that a criminal prohibition against polygamous religious marriages violated the rights to freedom of religion under the First Amendment, and due process rights guaranteed by the 14th Amendment to the US Constitution. This judgment focused on the state's duty to tolerate minority religious practices, while downplaying the potential risks of polygamy to practitioners and their children.2

Palliative care is an interdisciplinary approach to caring for individuals and families who are suffering with serious illness. Medical and psycho-social-spiritual symptoms and needs are assessed and addressed. Much of palliative care is about working with patients and families to bring their context to light, that is, to understand not only their medical situation but also their wishes, values, cultural background, previous experiences, and quality of life. As palliative care clinicians, we have seen how popular understanding and misunderstanding about what it means to “honor thy mother and father” can influence medical decision making. Whether or not adult children of patients have familiarity with the honor commandment, the biblical text “honor thy father and mother,” or whether they identify with a particular religious tradition, this theme plays a central—and often unaddressed—role as adult children strive to make decisions with and for a seriously ill parent. In this article we examine the commandment to honor one's father and mother by exploring its religious, spiritual, textual, and cultural origins, as well as subsequent Jewish commentary. We also contextualize the honor commandment in the palliative care setting through clinical case studies that illustrate the concerns of adult children who wish to honor their parents but are perplexed or conflicted about what this mandate means in the face of difficult medical and psycho-social-spiritual circumstances.

There is no uniform Islamic law of elder care. Instead, the Qur’ān and Hadith, the fundamental building blocks of Islamic law, create general obligations to support aged parents that each Islamic society must specifically produce in practice. Before Islam swept Central Asia, nomads developed an elder-care tradition that thrives to this day in the former Soviet States of Kazakhstan (population 17 million), Kyrgyzstan (5.7 million), Tajikistan (8 million), Turkmenistan (5.2 million), and Uzbekistan (30 million). In many instances, Islamic law inclines toward adopting local customs and traditions so long as these practices do not conflict with fundamental Islamic law principles. Islamic law's openness to local influence is stymied in the Central Asian example because the edgen system that undergirds Central Asian elder care directly conflicts with the Islamic law of inheritance allotments. This article explains the edgen system and how it conflicts with Islamic law. A prominent contemporary Central Asian Islamic scholar's legal opinions illustrate a device in Islamic law called ḥiylah, or a legal ruse. Through this ruse, Central Asian families are able to maintain traditional elder care practices while also complying with Islamic law. Nevertheless, as the article concludes, the Central Asian elder-care system is based on unpaid female labor and female disinheritance. Female inheritance is a central feature of Islamic law. Yet, the edgen tradition puts women at a disadvantage in terms of labor and inheritance that Islamic law seeks to avoid.

Disputes over the nature, basis, and enforceability of human rights go back to early 1947, when the drafting of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) first began. Nor were the disputes limited to the drafting process. Intense arguments emerged among social scientists, philosophers, religious leaders, legal thinkers, and public figures around the world over the very idea of human rights, namely, the notion that human beings possess legally enforceable entitlements to certain protections and opportunities simply because of their common humanity.