In this op-ed, "An uneasy mix of religion and politics," Bill Daley criticizes Cardinal George for criticizing Notre Dame's decision to honor President Obama with the commencement address and a ceremonial degree. In the process, he reveals, and promotes, deep confusion about the nature of Cardinal George's objection.
As MOJ readers know, I believe that Notre Dame should not, at this time, given all the givens, have chosen to honor President Obama in this way. But, I think we can, for purposes of evaluating Daley's op-ed, put aside the ultimate question of the merits of this choice.
Daley, like many others, proceeds from the mistaken premise that the debate about the invitation is about whether or not a Catholic university should "hear from" leaders who hold unsound views or promote unjust policies. But, this is not the issue. Of course Catholic universities should engage, debate, explore, "dialogue", question, challenge, etc. There might well be some, somewhere, who think that Notre Dame's Catholic character should preclude lecture by, or debate featuring, the President, but I certainly do not think that. Nor does Cardinal George. This is not a debate -- contra Daley -- about an "invitation to speak". It is about a decision to honor, and about what that decision suggests (whether or not that suggestion is specifically intended).
Even worse, then descends into, well, nonsense by suggesting that the Cardinal's criticism threatens (it has, in fact, nothing to do with) the separation of church and state. Cardinal George is speaking to Notre Dame, about what Notre Dame -- as a Catholic university -- should do.
That idea is what distinguished the fledgling United States from the many countries with state religions. It still distinguishes us from much of the world. No matter how certain we are that our church is the one true path to salvation, we can never cross the line and believe that it is our God-given right and duty to force our beliefs on others. Otherwise, we are no different than the forces of religious fanaticism and terror that we are fighting today.
Good grief. The suggestion that, by urging a Catholic university to think more clearly about the implications of that character for that university's own decisions and practices, a Catholic bishop is pushing us toward a "state religion," or "forc[ing] . . . beliefs on others" is unworthy of someone of Daley's achievements. In fact -- and this seems true whether or not one supports President Obama's policies, agrees with him, or thinks Notre Dame should honor him -- the more serious threat to church-state separation, properly understood, is the suggestion, from one with Mr. Daley's connections to political power, that Catholic bishops act wrongly -- act un-American -- when they tell Catholic universities how better to be Catholic.
A reader had this reaction to my post about acknowledging the suffering involved in raising a child with a disability:
For me, one of the most alienating aspects of much that has been written from a religious perspective about life with a disabled child is the constant stress on how wonderful such children are, and how rewarding life with them can be. It is as though scholars and others are so frantic to avoid anything that sounds remotely pro-choice that they thrust aside the very real, constant, and profound suffering that parents and siblings of a disabled child must inevitably face. This attitude can itself cause suffering, because it adds guilt to the already heavy burden, guilt at the very fact that the parents and siblings suffer instead of rejoice.
As the parent of a disabled child, I deeply resent those who do not have disabled children who tell me that I ought to rejoice in my parenthood, implying that I am wrong to despair. This is the same resentment that I used to feel when at parents' meetings at my son's elementary school, when other parents tried to lecture me on how it was my fault that he did not do his homework, or told me (as frequently happened) that he would do his homework if only I told him that he could not watch TV until it was completed. It is the same resentment that I felt when others in supermarkets would glare at me for retaining insufficient control over my child, adding shame to my already long list of emotions. It is a tragedy when the acquisition of empathy depends on whether one has actually undergone the same experience, as opposed to learning about others who do. I remain hopeful that humans can learn about what it is like to have a disabled child or sibling without actually undergoing the experience themselves, but I have seen no evidence to support that hope.
The suffering needs to be recognized and accepted as part of the whole experience of having a disabled child, as well as the joys and rewards.
This observation strikes me as profoundly moving and universally applicable: "It is a tragedy when the acquisition of empathy depends on whether one has actually undergone the same experience, as opposed to learning about others who do." In other words, it is a tragedy when we lose our capacity for empathy.
Here is the Iowa Supreme Court's ruling striking down the state's same-sex marriage ban as violating the Iowa Constitution. The Court used an equal protection analysis, applying intermediate scrutiny. Here's a key step in the Court's analysis:
Therefore, with respect to the subject and purposes of Iowa’s marriage laws, we find that the plaintiffs are similarly situated compared to heterosexual persons. Plaintiffs are in committed and loving relationships, many raising families, just like heterosexual couples. Moreover, official recognition of their status provides an institutional basis for defining their fundamental relational rights and responsibilities, just as it does for heterosexual couples. Society benefits, for example, from providing same-sex couples a stable framework within which to raise their children and the power to make health care and end-of-life decisions for loved ones, just as it does when that framework is provided for opposite-sex couples.
At the end of the opinion, the Court also addresses "the reason for the exclusion of gay and lesbian couples from civil marriage left unspoken by the County: religious opposition to same-sex marriage."
If you noticed a flurry of news stories about autism yesterday, it's because it was World Autism Awareness Day. I didn't know about it ahead of time, but just coincidentally the night before I had gone to see a truly phenomenal Australian movie about a family that includes an autistic teenager, The Black Balloon. I highly recommend it, as a unflinchingly honest look (despite the too-cutesy ending) at the very real heartbreak (and the very real humor) involved in loving a person with autism. The movie focuses on the impact on the brother of the autistic son, who is an "average" 16-year old kid desperately wishing his brother would "get better." I saw it with my own 16-year old son, who does more than his fair share of dealing with the more difficult autism-related complications of growing up with his little brother (who has both Down Syndrome and a form of autism). We both cried during the movie -- both with tears of laughter at times, because we recognized ourselves in some scenes -- and me (but NOT my 16-year old son, I stress) because I cry very easily at sad or sappy scenes in movies.
Although I'm as guilty of stressing the joys and rewards of raising a child with a disability as anyone, I do think it's important to be honest about the suffering and the costs sometimes involved. It's not all noble, and it doesn't always turn out all right, despite the best of intentions. If you're not too depressed by Rob's recent post, here's another recent brutally honest essay about raising a son with autism: The Monster Inside my Son, by Ann Bauer.
What does this have to do with Catholic legal theory? I think that disabilty rights theorists have to think more about and address more directly the reality of suffering, a topic that Catholic theology might have a lot to say about. I also think that an honest confrontation with the difficulties involved in life with disabilities is important to many social policies decisions affecting people with disabilities and those who love and support them.
Adam Cohen had an excellent editorial in yesterday's NYT about the challenges and opportunities that the economic downturn poses for the legal profession. He suggests the following "silver linings" -- all of which will be perceived as enormous challenges for the institutions involved. I think I tend to agree with him, though, that these sorts of steps are inevitable, and probably for the good of the legal profession. Any other reactions?
1. Big firm salaries will be reined in. He writes:
Years ago, law firm starting salaries were not that different from government or public-interest jobs. But the gap has become a chasm. First-year salaries at top firms are around $160,000, compared with $48,000 to start for state and local prosecutors and $40,000 for legal-services lawyers. New associates often earn more than the judges they appear before.
The downturn will probably rein in salaries at the high end. Top firms are already under pressure to lower the $160,000 starting salary; one industry-watcher says it could fall as low as $100,000. And fewer firms will feel the need to pay the top salary.
Lower pay should mean that associates will not need to work the grueling hours many have been forced to. And it will mean less pressure to go into private practice for law graduates who would rather do something else.
2. Law school tuition will have to be reigned in. He writes:
For years, law school tuition rose along with big-firm salaries. Between 1990 and 2003, the cost of private law schools rose at nearly three times the rate of consumer prices. The average graduate now leaves with more than $80,000 in debt. In one survey, 66 percent of students said debt prevented them from considering government or public-interest jobs.
If the downturn is prolonged, law schools will need to keep tuition and other costs in check so students do not graduate with unmanageable debt. More schools may follow the lead of Northwestern, the first top-tier law school to offer a two-year program.
3. Law school curriculums will have to be reformed. He writes:
Law schools may also become more serious about curriculum reform. The Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching released an influential report that, among other things, urged law schools to make better use of the sometimes-aimless second and third years. If law jobs are scarce, there will be more pressure on schools to make the changes Carnegie suggested, including more focus on practical skills.
They may also need to pay more attention to preparing students for nonlegal careers. Law graduates have always ended up in business, government, journalism and other fields. Law schools could do more to build these subjects into their coursework.
If you're not depressed enough by Michael's report on universities' embrace of porn as suitable student entertainment, try reading the reader comments to the Chicago Tribune's coverage of Cardinal George's criticism of Notre Dame's decision to invite President Obama to speak at commencement and receive an honorary degree. Or check out the Minneapolis Star-Tribune's headline for an article on Archbishop Nienstedt's letter criticizing the invitation: "Archbishop flays Obama as anti-Catholic." Nice. This entire episode has, in my view, underscored two important lessons:
1) It is very difficult to have an intra-Church conversation about a matter as high-profile as this, and the concerns communicated from bishops to Notre Dame's president do not necessarily translate easily into the broader public forum. To most Americans (including many Catholics), it is far from obvious why the U.S. President should not be a welcome guest at a college commencement. When the broader public is listening in on the conversation, the conversation needs to be geared toward educating the public as well. (A related question: is "causing embarrassment" really the best way to describe the problem caused by the invitation? I thought that the problem is more about "causing confusion.")
2) The tragedy of the priest sex abuse scandal continues to extend forward, far beyond the devastating direct impact on the victims themselves, as we recognize the extent to which the abuse, and the bishops' facilitation of that abuse, has compromised the Church's witness in our society.
According to this report: "If all goes as planned tonight, hundreds of students at the University of California, Davis, will watch a $10 million pornographic movie in a chemistry lecture hall, the periodic table of elements hanging above their heads."
Meanwhile, the University of Maryland was planning on screening the same XXX movie. "We thought this would be something fun for the students to do, especially since we're getting close to the end of the semester," said Lisa Cunningham, program coordinator for the Hoff Theater, which is showing the film. "We're a college movie theater and we thought it would bring out the students." (Baltimore Sun article). In an update, the Sun reports that the Maryland screening was canceled "after state lawmakers objected and threatened to cut funding to the flagship state university."
On this date, four years ago, Pope John Paul II -- John Paul the Great, I believe -- went to his reward. According to this story:
Pope Benedict XVI is marking the fourth anniversary of the death of Pope John Paul II with an evening Mass and new prayers for the Polish pontiff's beatification.
For more materials celebrating the late Pope's life, including homilies delivered by Pope Benedict XVI on the previous anniversaries, go here.
Yuck. This from the new dean of the Episcopal Divinity School:
These are the two things I want you, please, to remember - abortion is a blessing
and our work is not done. Let me hear you say it: abortion is a blessing and our work is not done. Abortion is a blessing and our work is not done. Abortion is a blessing and our work is not done.
I want to thank all of you who protect this blessing - who do this work every day: the health care providers, doctors, nurses, technicians, receptionists, who put your lives on the line to care for others (you are heroes -- in my eyes, you are saints); the escorts and the activists; the lobbyists and the clinic defenders; all of you. You're engaged in holy work.
