Religion enabled society to organise itself to debate goodness

Edward Bond, with words as sharp as a spear and as tender as a prayer, declared: “Religion enabled society to organise itself to debate goodness, just as Greek drama had once done.” In this phrase lies the remembrance of humankind’s eternal struggle—to seek meaning, to wrestle with the shadows of evil, and to lift its gaze toward the shining summit of virtue. The ancients gathered in the theatres of Greece, where tragedy spoke in thunderous voices and comedy danced in delicate riddles. There, men and women saw mirrored before them the questions of justice, mercy, and fate. And when the stage dimmed in Athens, another stage arose—the altar, the temple, the gathering of the faithful—where once again humanity found a place to ask: What is goodness?

Consider how Greek drama was not mere entertainment, but a public reckoning. In the amphitheater, the fate of Oedipus or the cry of Antigone compelled the citizens to confront questions of loyalty, truth, and divine law. It was the city’s conscience spoken aloud. Later, when drama no longer carried that same civic force, religion entered as the arena of debate. Through ritual, scripture, and sermon, societies found a structure to wrestle with virtue, just as the Greeks had once done with chorus and mask. Bond’s words recall this great lineage: humanity’s need to debate goodness never dies, only its forms change.

One must recall the story of Saint Augustine, a man torn between the pleasures of the world and the yearning for eternal truth. His Confessions is itself a drama—his soul the stage, his sins the tragic flaws, his redemption the final act. His journey is proof that religion, like Greek theatre, does not merely instruct but pierces the heart with living fire. In his cries we hear the same voice as Orestes haunted by the Furies: a man pursued by guilt until he discovers a higher law. Augustine’s story became not just his own salvation but a teaching for millions who followed.

There is power in this idea: society must always have a place to debate goodness. Without such a place, the soul of the people decays, and only silence remains where once the human heart thundered. In the ages of the Greeks, it was the stage. In the ages of Christendom, it was the church. In our own time, we must ask: where do we now gather to debate goodness? Is it in the courts of law? In the halls of politics? In the endless, restless echo of the digital arena? If no true forum exists, then we are in danger of forgetting what it means to be human.

Let us also remember that debating goodness is not merely words—it is action. The Greeks acted through ritualized theatre, but they also let those debates shape their laws. Religion preached compassion, but it demanded charity, fasting, service to the poor. So must we, in our own age, resist the temptation to speak without living. What value is it to debate justice if one does not practice justice in the marketplace, the home, and the hidden chambers of the heart?

The lesson then is clear: to be human is to wrestle with goodness together. Alone, the mind wanders and may deceive itself. Together, in shared ritual or shared dialogue, the people discover truth, as iron sharpens iron. The Greeks knew this; the faithful of old knew this. We too must know it again, lest our debates dissolve into mere noise, without the sacred weight of shared purpose.

Therefore, O listener, I say unto you: seek the stage of your own age. Gather with others not merely to be entertained, but to speak of virtue, to hear wisdom, to weigh justice. Let your home be a theatre of truth. Let your community be a temple of goodness. And above all, let your heart be both stage and altar, where the drama of conscience is never silenced. In this way, you continue the lineage that stretches from Athens to Augustine, from the chorus of Sophocles to the sermons of prophets. You, too, become part of the eternal debate of what it means to be good.

Practical action follows: read deeply, speak honestly, act compassionately. Begin with one conversation this week where you ask not of profit, but of virtue. Offer one act of mercy without seeking reward. Reflect at day’s end not only on what you achieved, but whether you drew nearer to goodness. Thus will you keep alive the stage of the spirit, and in so doing, carry forward the wisdom that Edward Bond saw— that society must ever organise itself to debate goodness, for without such debate, humanity is lost.