Mirror of Justice

A blog dedicated to the development of Catholic legal theory.
Affiliated with the Program on Church, State & Society at Notre Dame Law School.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Wesley Smith on the upcoming puff-pic about (the loathesome) Jack Kevorkian

Here.

 . . .Jack Kevorkian is a dangerous nut who should be shunned, not celebrated. But you won’t see any of this in the movie, because HBO, the producers, and Pacino don’t know Jack. And the worst part is that they—and the popular media generally—don’t want to know Jack. They have a story they want to tell and facts would just get in the way. . . .

Why are great artists (e.g., Pacino) so often so stupid?

Update:  another First Thoughts post makes me wonder if, in fact, Pacino is so clever that he is exploiting the fact that he does, in fact, look like a "killer", to subtly communicate to people what they should, in fact, "know" about "Jack".  Maybe?  No, that's just The Godfather fan talking. 

Winters: "What the Crisis is not about"

At America: 

 . . .One of the most surprising aspects of the reaction to the return of the clergy sex abuse scandal has been the way some commentators, especially those on the Left, have used the crisis to advance causes that do not actually have much to do with the underlying problems. My colleague Father Martin has already explained below that celibacy is not the source of this problem, and ending the requirement for clerical celibacy would not end the scandal. But, what has my back up this morning is the argument that because of the scandal, the entire hierarchical structure of the Church should be overturned and the most extreme liberal interpretation of Vatican II be accepted. . . .

 . . .Ratzinger is no fundamentalist: His writings constantly face, they do not evade, the bumps in the modern road, the challenges of social and cultural pluralism, the complexities of dialogue in an age that is, after all, marked by relativism, the ugly, genocide-laden history of modernity. And, it would be strange indeed to find any bishop who shares Carroll’s commitment to a liberal, Protestant ecclesiology, which is a fine ecclesiology to have, just not a Catholic ecclesiology. . . .

The full post is here.

Berkowitz on Sarkozy and the veil

Peter Berkowitz discusses, in the Wall Street Journal, the recent announcement by French President Nicolas Sarkozy that he intends to secure a ban on the full Muslim veil. 

Mr. Sarkozy's ban on the full veil represents a draconian measure for a free society. Arguably, it is necessary and proper. But it won't prevail without a fight. A few days after Mr. Sarkozy's speech, the Council of State, France's highest administrative body, declared that an outright ban would be hard to enforce, might be unconstitutional, and should be rejected. Meanwhile, a similar ban was unanimously approved by Belgium's home affairs committee last week and will be voted on by the lower house of parliament later this month.

Restrictions on liberty in a free society are always suspect and in need of justification. The best justification is the protection and promotion of freedom. . . .

Given the importance that the French Constitution attaches to liberty and the seriousness of the threat to peace and public order posed by the large, restive and nonassimilating portion of its Muslim population, the veil represents a legitimate concern. Banning it would be justified to the extent that Muslim communities in France use the veil to deprive girls of basic educational opportunities and to prevent women from fulfilling their obligations as citizens, or that terrorists create a security threat by disguising themselves in the veil.

Circumstances, not just principles, are decisive. . . .

Thoughts?

Update:  Jody Bottum, at First Thoughts, has some.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

John Allen's "The Future Church": The Pentecostalism Trend

Over the past two months, the members of the Mirror of Justice have taken turns exploring John Allen's important new book titled “The Future Church.” For each of the ten trends in the modern Catholic Church identified by Allen, one member of the Mirror of Justice has posted a synopsis and commentary, as the start of a discussion thread. This is another in that series. [Note that numbers inside parentheses below are references to pages in the hard-back version of the book.]

Pentecostalism is the tenth trend identified by John Allen as affecting the Catholic Church in his book, “The Future Church.” As Allen explains, “Pentecostalism refers to a movement within Christianity emphasizing direct personal experience of God through the baptism of the Holy Spirit, which often, though not always, is believed to produce spiritual gifts such as healings, visions, and speaking in tongues” (377). As Allen writes, “the motor force of the movement is the conviction that the eruption of the Holy Spirit associated with the Feast of Pentecost in the New Testament did not stop with the close of the biblical era” (380).

Allen reports the rapid global growth of Pentecostalism. “When future histories of Christianity are written,” Allen predicts, “the late twentieth century will probably be known as the era of the Pentecostal Explosion. From less than 6 percent in the mid-1970s, Pentecostals finished the century representing almost 20 percent of world Christianity . . . .” (378).

In many parts of the world, and Latin American in particular, “the Pentecostal wave” has resulted in losses of millions from the Catholic Church (386). “On the other hand,” Allen writes, “the news is not all bad for the Catholic Church. While Pentecostalism eats away at the raw numbers of Catholics, sometimes it can be an index of religious ferment that, in the long run, may also benefit Catholicism” (387). As Allen describes the thinking of Dominican Father Edward Cleary, in the wake of Pentecostalism, “Catholicism is also becoming more dynamic in Latin America, generating higher levels of commitment among those who remain” (387).

Among the members of the Mirror of Justice, I may be one of the better suited to offer some personal comments on this particular trend. Converted to Pentecostalism in college, I was an active member of the movement for nearly a decade, including being married to my wife in an Assembly of God church. I fondly remember those years as involving some of the most powerful spiritual experiences of my life, many having a more enthusiastic emotional impact than what I have experienced during what is now a similar number of years as a Catholic. Both the kind of person I have become and the Christian faith that I possess owe much to my Pentecostal years. But where Pentecostalism spoke to and stirred my heart, the teachings, history, traditions, liturgy, and centuries of public engagement and natural law reasoning found in the Catholic Church spoke to and stimulated my mind.

While little can compete with a Pentecostal worship service for arousing the soul and bringing a sense of a deep personal connection to Jesus, the Catholic Church has no true competitor for conveying the majesty of God and the beauty of the Kingdom of Heaven. While a daily walk with Jesus may come more easily with a Pentecostal soul, the Catholic Church with the Deposit of the Faith left to the Apostles and the intellectual tradition cultivated by the Doctors of the Church have no parallel in equipping the believer with a fuller understanding of both the substance of our Faith and the manner in which a Christian should live in the world.

In sum, the Catholic Church needs Pentecostalism to play the heart strings and enhance a personal spiritual life, but Pentecostalism needs the Catholic Church to provide a direct line to the Apostolic tradition, to provide doctrinal structure, to draw upon a centuries-old tradition of inspired and wise Christian teaching, and to give Christians an intellectual grounding for the use of God-given reason in conjunction with a well-formed conscience.

As do other former Pentecostals (and I think many former Evangelicals as well) who have converted to the Catholic Church, I sometimes find the emphasis on a personal relationship with Jesus to be missing in Catholic parish life. While knowing Jesus as a personal Savior is integral to Catholic doctrine and manifested in the Sacraments, especially the Sacrament of Reconciliation, the one-on-one relationship with our Lord is not always well conveyed in the Catholic Church. I know that many of us from Pentecostal or Evangelical backgrounds worry that the deep and individual spiritual connection the personal sense of walking with Jesus may not be fully experienced by our children, at least those who find themselves in the sometimes stale or routine style of worship found in too many Catholic parishes.

In the “Future of the Church,” John Allen paraphrases Indias Father Paul Parathazham as saying that too many Catholics have never had a “God experience,” “meaning something that got the heart pumping and put them into direct contact with the supernatural realm” (393). As the Latin American bishops acknowledged in 2007, the Catholic Church has in some ways been put to sleep, “leaving it content with the formal externals of religion but often failing to impart any real sense of personal faith” (403).

In sum, the Catholic Church needs to be touched and inspired by the Pentecostal movement. While the evangelical turn in the Catholic Church, discussed elsewhere in John Allens book, together with a fervent and personally dedicated new generation of priests and lay-leaders inspired by John Paul II has started the necessary spiritual renewal in the Church, the Pentecostal spark may keep the spiritual fires burning.

At the same time, the Pentecostal movement is incomplete apart from the Catholic Church. Allen refers to the writings of Kathleen Galvas, a convert to the Catholic Church from the Assemblies of God, in which she well explains that “Catholicisms capacity to root faith in both sentiment and reason is ultimately a more satisfactory bulwark” against those “moments of spiritual aridity or doubt” that afflict all Christians (399). Allen further cites Galvas as questioning “claims by Pentecostals to do away with the need for clergy intermediaries by insisting that each believer can be directly illuminated by Scripture turns out to be hollow” (399). In fact, Pentecostal worship groups and communities tend to revolve around certain charismatic (pun intended) leaders whose teachings may become nearly infallible, in practice if not in theory.

Because no cohesive community that hopes to share a coherent message can continue by allowing full rein to each persons own independent visions, the danger of spiritual chaos will be averted, if at all, by accepting the superior understanding and mature spiritual connection of elders in the faith. Claims of revelation must always be tested against the experience and traditions of the community, which in the case of the Catholic Church have been passed down through the Deposit of the Faith from the early days of the Church. In the end, there is no substitute, in terms of both practical necessity and the confirmation of Christs own example, to the Apostolic Succession.

Another downside to the growth of Pentecostalism articulated by John Allen raises the question of its staying power in the lives of its converts. “While public fascination surrounds the spectacular number of entries into Pentecostalism,” Allen warns, “there hasn't been as much attention to what some experts say is an equally remarkable number of exits” (380). “For a significant percentage of new converts, Pentecostalism may be a way station between nominal membership in a traditional church and a complete lack of religious affiliation . . . .” (380).

The very things that make Pentecostalism as a separate denomination so attractive at first a deeply personal experience, an informal worship setting, and the apparent lack of strong traditions and a clear leadership structure also limit its ability to remain vibrant when members move beyond the initial emotional experience and seek continuing nourishment, for the mind as well as the heart. By wedding the Pentecostal experience to the venerable traditions and Petrine structure of the Catholic Church, the Christian is fed both emotionally and intellectually.

Although “hostility to Catholicism is a real current in some Pentecostal thought” (382), the compatibility of the Charismatic gifts of the Holy Spirit and the traditions and teachings of the Catholic Church are becoming more apparent to those both inside and outside the formal Church. The essence of the Pentecostal message should be at home in the Catholic Church.

In fact, as Allen observes, Charismatic Catholics may now constitute 11 percent of the Churchs faithful (384). In the United States, “with Hispanic Catholics nearly five times more likely to take part in charismatic activities,” Allen quotes a national Hispanic Christian leader as saying that, in America, “'[t]here are more Catholic Pentecostals than Pentecostal Pentecostals'” (384). Allen notes that “[m]any Catholic leaders have supported the Charismatic movement in the Church, seeing in it a means to promote deeper faith and practice” (385). And well they should. At the same time, Catholic leaders properly insist that charismatic activities must not supplant the Sacraments (386).

As another point of vital importance to the future of any people of faith, Allen emphasizes that “[o]ne of the great strengths of Pentecostalism is its capacity to form a sense of community” (407). With the decline of ethnic neighborhoods and geographically-centered parishes, the Catholic Church must foster stronger communities of deeply shared Catholic meaning and spiritual experience, such as sub-groups within a parish that come together for Bible study and to share one anothers burdens. We must find ways, both within and outside the parish, in which to build community and demonstrate our concern for the welfare of each brother and sister in Christ.

In this respect, there is a crucial role for Catholic legal education, in building true communities of faculties and students with a shared mission. In addition to equipping our students with a superior legal education and affirming their integration of faith and profession, we should serve as continuing support centers for graduates, students, and friends, a place where they can always return for further nourishment and for strength when they are weary.

Greg Sisk

Another entry in the MOJ to-and-fro about the claim of media bias

[Lifted from NCR's blog, called NCR Today, where John Allen, among many others, posts.]

That's not fantasy; it's fact.

History professor Jonathan Zimmerman adds some prespective to the recent charges of media bias and anti-Catholicism that some in the church heierarchy have leveled at the media and critics of how the church has handled cases of sexual abuse by clergy:  "As the church's defenders note, America has a long, hideous history of anti-Catholic bigotry. But whereas earlier attacks on Catholics were based on fantasy, the abuse scandal is altogether real. By ignoring the difference, church apologists end up diminishing the real discrimination that Catholics suffered in the past."  Read Zimmerman's full piece in the Philadelphia Inquirer: Anti-Catholic bias irrelevant to scandal.

Interesting reflections on why monogamous marriage matters ...

... and on celebrity threats to monogamous marriage, here.

[Cross-posted at ReligiousLeftLaw.]

That our joy may be complete

In a recent edition of America (subscription required), Kathleen Norris has an Easter reflection titled "Something Wondrous is Afoot."  As we begin this Easter season, she provides rich food for prayerful reflection.  Her insights are also relevant, I think, to the MOJ discussion of abuse.  And, her Here is a sample:

 

On the way to becoming Christian, we are all learners. When it comes to fully accepting what it means to be a Christian, I am not a particularly good student. For one thing, my prayer life is much too haphazard for a Benedictine oblate. If I am fortunate enough to be visiting a monastery, going to the Liturgy of the Hours every day, I do fine; but left to my own devices I falter.

The writers of the early church are generally of more use to me than modern theologians when I am trying to make theological concepts come alive. John Chrysostom, for example, packs his dogma into plain speech and concrete imagery. A human voice comes through. The homily he preached in Constantinople before being forced into an exile from which he would never return is fortified with biblical allusion and still heart-rending more than 1,600 years later: “Christ is with me, whom shall I fear? Though waves rise up against me, the seas, the wrath of rulers: These things are no more to me than a cobweb.” He encourages the congregation not to lose hope because: “Where I am, there also are you; where you are, there too am I; we are one body.... We are separated by space, but we are united by love. Not even death can cut us apart. For even if my body dies, my soul will live on and will remember my people.”

To me, this is Easter truth speaking through ordinary language. To someone else, it might seem the ravings of a fool. For we are always free to choose what meaning to give to the events that shape us, to opt for fear or hope, despair or joy, bitterness or love.

Two men I knew both received a dire prognosis, one of liver cancer, the other of stage IV melanoma. The man with liver cancer, a tavern owner and petty criminal, survived much longer than anyone expected; he had several years of remission. He told me that on his worst days in the hospital he promised himself that if he ever got out again, he would devote himself to “looking out for number one.” And that is exactly what he did; living selfishly and self-indulgently until the day he died, alone and mostly unlamented.

The other man was a Benedictine monk who died just three months after his initial diagnosis. “I realized,” he wrote to friends, “that everything I’ve experienced since my original bout with melanoma 20 years ago has been a grace...not a bad realization for a monk. I have never felt so surrounded by love. This is the most grace-filled time in my life, an unending source of hope and well-being at the core of my being—pure gift.” In thanking the many who had been praying for him, he wrote: “Thanks for helping me to choose life in this time of fear and uncertainty. Something wondrous is afoot. I just can’t see it yet.”

A man named Paul, facing execution, once wrote from a jail cell: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice” (Phil 4:4). A man named Jesus, on the night before he died, ate his last meal with friends, talked up a storm and no doubt startled the company by proclaiming, “I am saying these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete” (Jn 15:11). Wondrous things afoot: an inexpressible but ever-present love, a joy so profound that even death cannot diminish it. Happy Easter!

 

"Why I Stay in the Church: A Parable from a Progressive Catholic"

The progressive Catholic is the novelist Mary Gordon.  She writes:

"Of the fate of contemporary Catholics, Flannery O'Connor once said that we must suffer at least as much from the Church as for it. Certainly, the past weeks have been a cause for suffering for Catholics of all political stripes, but the suffering takes on a particular flavor for progressives. We are deluged by questions from those who think of themselves as our colleagues and comrades. Actually, only one question: 'How can you still stay in the Church?'

When I answer, I insist that the terms be defined properly. It is an error of vocabulary to assume that 'the Church' is a direct synonym for 'the hierarchy,' 'the bishops,' 'the Vatican.' Those of us of a certain age remember traveling abroad during the Vietnam years when we would be asked, 'How can you still call yourself an American?' Our answer was: we are not the White House. We are not the Pentagon. We are the people protesting; America is larger than your words suggest. Why must I believe that the church is Pope Benedict and not the courageous nuns who took real risks to defy the American bishops on health care in the name of the poor whom they serve? Some say we owe the passage of health care to these brave women; their position would not have been so effective if they had been speaking not as nuns, whose lives had been dedicated to the Church, but, say, as a group of nurses or social workers. The Church has a very long history; this history includes a fair share of scoundrels; it also includes those whose heroism was achieved despite the opposition of the official Church: Joan of Arc and Oscar Romero, to name only two....

How do some of us stay in the Church? In grief, in sadness, with a resolve not to be shut out by those who say they are speaking in the name of the Father. We just don't believe them. The Church is not an institution; it is the people, people who are now wounded and scandalized, not only by the sexual crimes of priests, but more important, by the cover-up by those in power. In 1959 the election of Pope John XXIII was a surprise, a kind of miracle. It happened once. It could happen again. We wait, in stubborn hope, for the return of miracle. We want to make sure some of us are at home when it happens."

The entire statement is here.

[Cross-posted at ReligionLeftLaw.]

How the Religious Right Promotes Abortion

That's the title of a new post by Andrew Koppelman.  You can read it (and, if you want, comment) at ReligionLeftLaw or at Law, Religion, and Ethics

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Bart Stupak, Revisited

Making health-care reform “abortion neutral” was never going to be easy. Rep. Bart Stupak (D-Mich.) was the first to demonstrate that it was possible, practically and politically. He also showed that a prolife politician could wield power within the Democratic Party—and under the purview of the “most radically pro-abortion president in history,” as Barack Obama is known to a certain segment of the prolife movement.

Senators Ben Nelson (D-Neb.) and Bob Casey (D-Pa.) came up with another way to exclude federal funding of abortion in their chamber’s reform bill. But at that point the Stupak Amendment took on a life of its own. Lobbying groups who hoped to stop “Obamacare” insisted that the Senate bill would be acceptable only if the House added Stupak’s language—a process that would send the bill back to the Senate, where Republicans could filibuster it to death.

Stupak expressed reservations about the Senate bill’s abortion language, as did the U.S. bishops and the National Right to Life Committee (sometimes jointly). His stubbornness led to Obama’s signing an eleventh-hour executive order clarifying that the Senate bill’s alleged ambiguities would be interpreted according to the principle embodied in the Hyde Amendment: no federal funding for elective abortions. According to Obama’s order, Hyde will indeed apply to all funding for community health centers, and existing conscience protections will be upheld.

For pursuing prolife measures within the Democratic Party, Stupak became a target of prochoicers, who accuse him of attempting to limit “women’s rights.” Now, having helped pass health-care reform, he is under attack from the Right. He has been called a coward and a traitor. Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.), desperate to burnish his right-wing credentials in an election year, sneered that Stupak “folded like a cardboard suit in the rain.”

In fact, Stupak has shown consistency and courage, not only in resisting the prochoice majority in his party, but also in resisting Republican efforts to use his prolife convictions to sabotage health-care reform. After the reform bill passed last month, House Republicans filed a motion to add the language of the Stupak Amendment—a last-ditch bid to return the bill to the Senate. Stupak took the floor to object that their use of his name was “nothing more than an opportunity to continue to deny 32 million Americans health care.” Republicans booed and jeered as he insisted, “It is the Democrats who have stood up for the principle of no public funding for abortions.... This motion is really to politicize life, not prioritize life.”

Stupak meant what he said all along: he wanted to extend health-care coverage without expanding direct federal funding of abortion. He succeeded, despite the best efforts of those who claimed to support him. For being that rarest of creatures—a politician who can hold firm to his principles and still seek honest compromise—he deserves prolifers’ gratitude and respect.