Sightings
Peace for Terri Schiavo
-- Martin E.
Marty
Today down the street at a hospice or in your
neighborhood hospital, one of many thousands of Americans is in a coma, or is
"brain dead," or in a "persistent vegetative state," or any of a score of
variations on the above. Unless the person is your patient, your relative,
your friend, or your fellow congregant who is regularly being prayed for, you've
never heard of this person, and never will.
In the language of the Christian majority, however,
"his name is written in the book of life," so no one needs to absolutize or
idolize utterly reduced "lives." More than half of them are under the care
of priests, ministers, rabbis, chaplains, trained and certified deacons, and lay
care-givers -- all of them pastors.
Who is a pastor, what does he or she do, and what does
it mean to be under pastoral care? The pastor is trained in medical
ethics, consults experts, and has thought through the theological implications
of what is going on, since such circumstances are constants in the pastoral
world. The pastor really, really cares about life, each life under
pastoral care, valuing the life to come and the life that is. The pastor
no doubt knew the "brain-dead" patient when he was hearty. She knows the
one who is now in a "persistent vegetative state" back in good days and
bad. Dealing with persons in comas is part of the regular rounds for
pastors.
Though not a parish pastor since 1963, I still get to
do pastoral acts, thanks to such conveniences as autos and jets, plus
snail-mail, e-mail, and telephones that make possible "virtual pastoral
calls." Even at the margins, I will get calls that say: "Marty, your
friend XX is slipping away. You agreed to phone a final prayer. We
are going to let her sleep tomorrow." That is not "physician-assisted
suicide." It is natural and godly. Or: "XX can't hear you anymore;
she's really gone, except for the tubes. You and she agreed you'd talk to
the family as we look ahead."
Oh, yes, the family. Pastoral care regards the
patient in context, and knows that the family will outlive the dying
member. Over a period of time a pastor, a chaplaincy-circuit, a
congregation will study the issues and make personal decisions with which
families have to live. The pastor will do all he or she can to help a
family find courage to make the right decision, the freedom from guilt that goes
with any choices -- all of them always bad -- and then to help them look ahead
to the life that is really life. The family can blend back into society
and know that they also will be cared for spiritually in tough
times.
It's too bad that because good pastoral activity is
personal and private, most citizens do not know about it, or for good enough
reasons of their own do not avail themselves of it. Really too bad is
when, whatever wonderful pastoral care may go on behind the curtains, the
patient becomes a "case," an "object," a "thing" to be fought over, exposed to
public view, used for a variety of political and religious and other
causes. Really, really too bad is when the family and their supporters are
tempted and expected to spend their subsequent years in frustration and fury,
wreaking vengeance (on whom?), nursing resentment, seeking more power, dividing
and distracting the citizenry.
With sympathy for her family, both sides of it, most of
us will turn when the time comes and say: Terri Schiavo, rest in peace and let
the people say, Amen.
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One MOJ reader responded to my post earlier today with a fair criticism of my observation that "leaving aside the question whether Congress had any business at all getting involved in the Shiavo matter, it is difficult for people to take seriously the claims of support for the dignity of life made by Republican lawmakers who have at every turn undermined human dignity by their decisions about health care, tax policy and the like." Conor Dugan writes:
"I have to admit that I find it difficult to take seriously your claims when you paint such a caricature of Republican lawmakers. I don't doubt that Republican lawmakers have in some instances undermined human dignity by their policy choices in Congress. But I do doubt whether such a blanket assertion without more can really withstand serious criticism. Furthermore, the simple fact that so many Catholics of good will tend to support the Republicans and their initiatives -- not just because of the abortion issue -- but also because they believe Republican economic policy generally helps to further the common good and foster human dignity would at least counsel caution in making such broad assertions."
Quoting language from the Bush's acceptance speech in the last election, he continues:
"Those words, seem to me to stand for the fostering of the common good and the protection of human dignity (in more than its unborn form)."
I agree that "at every turn" was overbroad and unfair and I deserve to be taken to task for it. At the same time, I stand by my fundamental critique of the inconsistency of the present administration (as well as the concern that inconsistency undermines efforts to get others to take seriously an ethic of life).
I don't disagree that a lot of the rhetoric sounds good. However in too many ways the rhetoric has not matched the reality and, in my view, many of the steps taken by this admistration have undermined the human dignity of many groups of persons in our society.
Susan
... and to other interested readers of this blog. For Rob's query about a faithful Catholic's proper relationship to the teaching authority of the magisterium, click here. Two excellent places to begin for those interested in pursuing this issue:
1. Judge John T. Noonan Jr.'s new book, A Church That Can and Cannot Change: The Development of Catholic Moral Teaching (2005). Click here.
2. Francis A. Sullivan, Creative Fidelity: Weighing and Interpreting Documents of the Magisterium (2003). Click here.
(Thanks to Cathy Kaveny for recommending these books.)
I touched upon the issue in chapter 5 of my book Under God? Religious Faith and Liberal Democracy (2003). Chapter 5 is titled Catholics, the Magisterium, and Same-Sex Unions: An Argument for Independent Judgment. Click here.
Steve Smith's paper, "Hollow Men: Law and the Declension of Belief" is availabe at SSRN, here. The abstract states:
If believing is central to what makes us persons, then how do we react when our core beliefs come under serious challenge? The "purest" responses are probably to engage in responsible apologetics, defending our beliefs against the challenges, or else adjustment or relinquishment of our beliefs in accordance with what we come to understand the truth to be. Often, however, we resort to less "pure" responses. We "bend the truth" or "fudge the facts" to deflect challenges to our beliefs. Or, in a response that entails more implicit philosophical sophistication, we deflate our very conceptions of truth and belief: in this case, this essay suggests, we may continue to affirm propositions even though we no longer fully and in good faith believe them.
This essay, presented as part of a lecture series on "Christian Contributions to Contemporary Jurisprudence," argues that this last "declensionist" response produces a kind of hollowness in our personhood. The essay then explores manifestations of such declensionist strategies in modern thinking about the nature of law. It concludes by sketching some possible alternatives that Christian legal thinkers might take in response to such declension.
Rick