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.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

"There is no Catholic vote . . .

. . . but on social policy, everyone now speaks Catholic," suggests Jody Bottum.  I (deliberately) held off on posting this until the pre-election-type discussions were over (or, at least, moot), because I think Bottum's claim is an interesting one, wholly and apart from how one thinks Catholics should vote in today's election.  After noting that Catholic voters seem to vote like, well, pretty much everyone else, he continues:

Which is not to deny the distinctiveness of Catholicism—the Catholic system of thought. Elections, in one sense, involve nothing more than the attempt to translate moral authority into political power, and the Catholic hierarchy has little moral authority left on the national scene. After the priest scandals and the constant attack from the nation’s press, the Catholic church as an institution is weaker now than anytime since the great waves of Catholic immigration in the 1880s first brought it real power in America. 

The major role, perhaps the only role, that Catholicism genuinely plays on the American stage anymore is as a source of the vocabulary for phrasing moral issues. If you had to describe a typical member of the new generation of Republican candidates, it would be a former military officer, now a local businessman, who attends a center-right Evangelical church and never ran for public office before. Which makes it all the more astonishing that, typically, he speaks the Catholic language of moral issues so seamlessly and well. . . .

. . . the vocabulary of Catholicism, that way of bringing religiously grounded moral claims into the public square, and doing so nonreligiously: It’s simply here in American electoral politics. Here in 2010, and for a good long while to come. 

Interesting.

One of the most important religious freedom cases in years?

Professor Friedman notes, over at the "ReligionClause" blog, that

a petition for certiorari (full text) was filed in Hosanna-Tabor Evangelical Lutheran Church and School v. EEOC.  In the case, the U.S. 6th Circuit Court of Appeals held that parochial school teachers who teach primarily secular subjects are covered by the Americans With Disabilities Act. They are not "ministerial employees" who are excepted from coverage. (See prior posting.) The Becket Fund issued a press release announcing the petition seeking Supreme Court review."

Eugene Volokh has more, here.  Here's a helpful quote from the petition:

This Court has long recognized the right of religious organizations to control their internal affairs. Watson v. Jones, 80 U.S. 679, 728–29 (1871). This right includes the freedom of religious organizations “to decide for themselves, free from state interference, matters of church government as well as those of faith and doctrine.” Kedroff v. St. Nicholas Cathedral, 344 U.S. 94, 116 (1952). Most importantly, it includes the right of religious organizations to select their own religious leaders. Ibid.; Serbian E. Orthodox Diocese v. Milivojevich, 426 U.S. 696, 724–25 (1976); Gonzalez v. Roman Catholic Archbishop, 280 U.S. 1, 16 (1929).

Based on this right, twelve federal circuits have recognized the “ministerial exception.” (The Federal Circuit has no jurisdiction over cases that could present the issue.) The ministerial exception bars lawsuits that interfere in the relationship between a religious organization and employees who perform religious functions — most obviously, lawsuits seeking to compel a religious organization to reinstate such an employee or seeking to impose monetary liability for the selection of such employees. As the first court adopting the ministerial exception explained: “The relationship between an organized church and its ministers is its lifeblood”; allowing the state to interfere in that relationship — effectively allowing judges and juries to pick ministers — would produce “the very opposite of that separation of church and State contemplated by the First Amendment.” McClure v. Salvation Army, 460 F.2d 553, 558, 560 (5th Cir. 1972).

Based on this principle, every circuit has agreed that the ministerial exception bars most lawsuits between a religious organization and its leaders. Every circuit has also agreed that the ministerial exception extends beyond formally designated “ministers” to include other employees who play an important religious role in the organization. And all eleven circuits to consider the question have agreed that the ministerial exception survives this Court’s decision in Employment Division v. Smith, which reaffirmed the cases underlying the ministerial exception — namely, cases forbidding the government from “lend[ing] its power to one or the other side in controversies over religious authority or dogma.” 494 U.S. 872, 877 (1990).

But the agreement ends there. Federal circuits are in sharp and acknowledged conflict over what legal standard controls the boundaries of the ministerial exception, and specifically over the “primary duties” test used by the Sixth Circuit here. The conflict has produced directly conflicting results in factually indistinguishable cases, and is widely recognized and firmly entrenched. This case presents an ideal vehicle for resolving the split and providing guidance on an important constitutional question.

If the Court takes this case, it will -- I think -- be among the most important religious-freedom decisions of the last 30 years (up there with Smith and Mitchell / Zelman). 

 

Lithwick on the Red Mass and the State of the Union

"Will more Supreme Court Justices attend this year's Red Mass [or, as she puts it, 'Red Mass'] than next year's State of the Union?", Dahlia Lithwick asks in this Slate piece.  After recalling how the President's (inaccurate) description of the Citizens United case prompted Justice Alito last year to shake his head and say "not true" during last year's SOTU, she says, among other things, that:

At the Red Mass this year, the justices heard a homily that flicked at the evils of abortion, gay marriage, and "humanism." There is no record of any justice in attendance furiously mouthing the words "That's not true" as these admonitions were delivered. For what it's worth, I would be just as uncomfortable if these justices all trooped en masse to Kol Nidre services to hear a stem-winder about the magic of creationism. (Which may explain why Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg stopped attending the Red Mass altogether after hearing her very first homily, which she has described as "outrageously anti-abortion.")

Of course, there was nothing "furious" about Justice Alito's reaction at the SOTU last year, but put that aside.  Put aside also questions one might have about what, exactly, the point is supposed to be of her observation that Justices didn't react to a homily that proposed for the lawyers assembled certain claims about the implications for policy of a commitment to human dignity and equality in the same way that Justice Alito reacted to a partisan mischaracterization of what the Court had, in fact, done.

The Red Mass [or, "Red Mass"] story serves, it turns out, simply as an introduction to a piece about the possibility that the Justices stand poised this year (or soon) to "dramatically" transform Establishment Clause evidence, and about -- more particularly -- a case involving the federal RLUIPA.  She concludes with this:

They will dispose of [the RLUIPA case] without ever reaching the troubling question of how a cross can be one man's universal and secular symbol of remembrance and the core element of another man's religious practice. It is this same tension that leads one to question how sitting through the Red Mass has become less awkward for some justices than attending the State of the Union. These aren't questions we get to ask of the justices. But maybe they are questions they can ask of themselves.

I don't get it.  What's the connection?  What am I missing?  What does the question presented in the RLUIPA case have in common -- at all -- with the Red Mass v. SOTU question?

  The Red Mass It seems to me that Lithwick is attempting to equate two very different things.  Justice Alito said "not true" because what the President said was, in fact, "not true."  It is a different thing, it seems to me, for a Catholic bishop to propose, to lawyers gathered to reflect on their shared vocation, that, say, abortion is  

The Election: The Problem with the current political arrangements

"As is the case every several years, we are asked to tune in briefly to decide which impersonal agent in the society will work to effect the common good – whether the market or the government. We are then expected, and largely welcome, the freedom to tune back out. And, predictably, our present discontents are born of the fact that neither of these agents is very good at providing for what’s promised, giving birth to extensive civic disillusionment and frustration."  In this essay, Patrick Deneen reminds us of an alternative to the current debate.

Elshtain on Sovereignty

I had the chance to (finally) read Jean Bethke Elshtain's Gifford Lectures, "Sovereignty:  God, State, and Self."  Wow.  Run, don't walk, to . . . Amazon and buy it.  Here's just one review:

Dismissed by most political theorists as a mere encumbrance, theology serves Elshtain well in this historical analysis of the two incarnations of sovereignty that have forged the modern world: the nation-state and the individual self. Originally delivered as the Gifford Lectures of 2005–06, Elshtain’s insightful investigation explains how political thinkers such as Machiavelli and Hobbes first endowed the nation-state with absolute sovereignty over society by politicizing the innovative theology of nominalist philosophers such as William of Ockham, who elevated God’s sovereign will above His discernible reason. Readers thus confront the perilous political dynamics in a nation-state as powerful and as capricious as Ockham’s God. Elshtain traces the lethal consequences of this modern theopolitics in the bloody atrocities of the French Revolutionaries, the Nazis, and the Soviet Communists. Inevitably, the deified modern state fractured into millions of divinized modern selves, each intent on establishing and defending its own godlike sovereignty. Champions of modern selfhood celebrate the unprecedented autonomy of the liberated individual; Elshtain, however, warns that a self that claims its godhood by severing restraints imposed by ancestors, religious orthodoxy, and community will ultimately destroy the cultural ecology necessary to a meaningful life. An illuminating though sobering new perspective on the conjunction between religion and politics. --Bryce Christensen

"Serving Two Masters"

Stanley Fish's recent column, "Serving Two Masters:  Shariah Law and the Secular State", will be of interest to MOJ readers, I think.  He considers, among other things, this question:

 “How far can liberal democracy go, both in accommodating minority groups in public policy, and, more profoundly, in granting official legal recognition to their beliefs, customs, practices and worldviews, especially when minority religious conduct and values are not congenial to the majority,” that is, to liberal democracy itself?

The question is, of course, an important one.  To be sure, Christians will want to ask themselves a related, but different, question, namely, "how far can Christians go, in submitting to, or embracing, the demands made by contemporary understandings of liberal democracy?" 

Fish also notes John Milbank's suggestion (which is consonant, I think, with the proposition that animates Dignitatis humanae) that

"only a distinctly Christian polity — not a secular postmodern one — can actually accord Islam the respect it seeks as a religion.” The italicized phrase is key: the respect liberalism can accord Islam (or any other strong religion) is the respect one extends to curiosities, eccentrics, the backward, the unenlightened and the unfortunately deluded. Liberal respect stops short — and this is not a failing of liberalism, but its very essence — of taking religious claims seriously, of considering them as possible alternative ways of ordering not only private but public life.

Christianity, says Milbank, will be more capable of deeply respecting Islam because the two faiths share a commitment to the sacred and to a teleological view of history notably lacking in liberalism (again, this is not a criticism but a definition of liberalism): A “Christian polity can go further in acknowledging the integral worth of a religious group as a group than a secular polity can.” Christianity can acknowledge the worth of Islam not merely in an act of tolerance but in an act of solidarity in the same way that Christian sects can acknowledge each other. . . .

Fish's column, no surprise, prompted lots of comments; here is Fish's response to those comments.

A Flannery fix (updateD)

“If you live today you breathe in nihilism. In or out of the Church, it’s the gas you breathe. If I hadn’t had the Church to fight it with or to tell me the necessity of fighting it, I would be the stinkingest logical positivist you ever saw right now. With such a current to write against, the result almost has to be negative. It does well just to be.”

(August 28, 1955)

 UPDATE:

“I was once, five or six years ago, taken by some friends to have dinner with [a group of their friends]. [One woman had] departed the Church at the age of 15 and is a Big Intellectual…. I hadn’t opened my mouth once, there being nothing for me in such company to say…. The conversation turned on the Eucharist, which I, being Catholic, was obviously supposed to defend. Mrs. Broadwater [the Big Intellectual] said…she thought of it as a symbol and implied that it was a pretty good one. I then said, in a very shaky voice, ‘Well, if it’s a symbol, to hell with it.’ That was all the defense I was capable of, but I realize now that this is all I will ever by able to say of it…except that it is the center of existence for me; all the rest of life is expendable.”

(December 16, 1955) 

Theology, Our Constitution, Islam, and the St. John's Conference

I am giving a talk on Friday at St. John’s Religious Legal Theory Conference  on “Theology and Our Constitution.” One of my preliminary points is that it is not possible to interpret the Establishment Clause in a way that would avoid contradicting someone's theology – indeed there is major disagreement within major faith traditions about the relationship between religion and the state. I am still working on Islam in this respect. In the 46 countries with Muslim majorities 26 have something like Establishment. I wonder about inferring anything about the 20 though. In Turkey, for example, the military is largely responsible for the secular character of the state. I have yet to find a good overview about the different positions taken within Islam about the relationship between religion and the state although the Christian Science Monitor published a helpful set of views in 2007.

One of those views comes in a column by Abdullahi Ahmed An-Na`im as a precursor to his book Islam and the Secular State (which I am in the process of reading) in which he argues that “The state should not enforce sharia (the religious law of Islam) because compliance should never be coerced by fear or faked to appease state officials. When observed voluntarily, sharia-based values can help shape laws and public policy through the democratic process. But if sharia principles are enacted as state law, the outcome will simply be the political will of the state.” I am struck by the similarity between his argument and that of Locke though Locke does not appear in the index (perhaps discussion of Locke would detract from the persuasiveness of his book to Muslims who are his primary audience). The Lockean view rules out impingements on religious liberty, but there are some state actions that those on the religious left would see as violations of Establishment (on Roger Williams grounds) that fellow travelers of Locke (think of the Roman Catholic Church - I would be grateful for comments on the differences between Locke and Murray) might see as perfectly appropriate (think of subsidies to private religious schools).

Monday, November 1, 2010

Hello, and a little review

Thanks very much to Rick and the other posters here for including me in your discussions.  It is fair to say that I've long admired the writing of many of the blog's denizens (of all political stripes!), and I'm delighted to be here with you.  My own writing interests are, as Rick mentioned, in law and religion and criminal law.  I've also been teaching a seminar in Catholic Social Thought and the Law here at St. John's, and I very much hope to share my approach with MOJ writers and readers and get your thoughts.

One of those folks whose writing I've always found challenging and provocative is Steve Shiffrin.  Here's a short review I just put up considering his thoughtful book, The Religious Left and Church-State Relations.  I noticed just below this post that Rick put up Professor Paulsen's critical take on the idea of separationism.  Somewhat surprisingly, one of the things that I took away from Steve's book is just a hint of nostalgia for the days when separationism ruled the theoretical roost.  I say surprisingly because I'm not generally a separationist.  But of all the ideas which John Rawls made famous among the pointy-headed set, I've always found the idea of restraint -- in one's personal and public expressions -- to be the most attractive.  At all events, I highly recommend the book, even as (or, perhaps better, because) there are points of disagreement between us.

Paulsen on church-state "separation"

Responding to the kerfuffle the other day regarding the disagreement between Mr. Coons and Ms. O'Donnell regarding the constitutional status of church-state "separation", Michael Stokes Paulsen has this characteristically helpful essay.  He writes, among other things, that:

The correct understanding of the First Amendment is not that it forbids contact—and even voluntary cooperation—between church and state. Rather, it protects private religious liberty, but does so in two complementary ways. In a nutshell, government may neither compel nor prohibit religious exercise. The Establishment Clause side of the coin says that government may not prescribe religious exercise; the Free Exercise side says that government may not proscribe, disfavor or otherwise punish or prevent religious exercise voluntarily chosen by the people. But the two phrases are two sides of the same coin. It is little wonder, then, that the Supreme Court has abandoned entirely the misleading metaphor “separation of church and state.” It simply does not help explain the true meaning of the First Amendment.

This is more than a quibble. The different understanding makes a difference in results. Under a separation view, government must discriminate against religion, reject school choice “voucher” plans that include religious options, and extirpate religious references and symbols from public discourse. Under the original meaning of the Constitution, government must protect religious choices and include religious persons, groups, and speakers on an equal basis. It may recognize and accommodate religion, as long as it does not in effect compel persons to engage in religious exercises or practices against their will—the hallmark of what an “establishment of religion” was understood to mean at the time the framers wrote the First Amendment.