If you care about torture, Jane Mayer's "Annals of the Pentagon: The Memo," in The New Yorker dated Feb. 27, 2006, won't disappoint. General Alberto Mora -- the thwarted hero of the story, as I read it -- attended a Catholic school in Jackson, Mississippi. That he now works for Wal-Mart should be a lesson to us all.
Friday, February 24, 2006
A "Catholic voice" against torture?
Monday, February 13, 2006
Whither New Jersey?
Same-sex marriage goes to top court
A liberal-leaning New Jersey Supreme Court could swiftly legalize gay nuptials, lawyers and scholars say.
By Kaitlin Gurney
Inquirer Trenton Bureau
TRENTON - New Jersey could become the second state to legalize gay marriage in a case that will reach the State Supreme Court this week, focusing debate in the battle that many advocates call the civil rights struggle of the 21st century.
Etc.
Sunday, February 5, 2006
Cartoons and killing
I'm with Rick (and Volokh) in questioning "the Vatican's" recent commendation of censorship. An insightful friend also wonders what we are to make of the unsigned Vatican statement's assertion that "violent actions of protest are equally deplorable." We are familiar with the nature of the "violent actions" that are referred to. Are these and satirical cartoons in fact equal with respect to their (dis)value?
Stirrings in South Bend?
January 24. 2006 6:59AM, South Bend Tribune
ND opens dialogue on events suited to Catholic campus
Jenkins weighs whether Queer Film fest, 'Monologues' are appropriate.
MARGARET FOSMOE
Tribune Staff Writer
SOUTH BEND -- The University of Notre Dame's president is considering whether "The Vagina Monologues," the Queer Film Festival and similar events should be allowed on campus.
The Rev. John I. Jenkins, who became president last July, on Monday launched a discussion designed to determine whether he will establish boundaries regarding events that some people consider to be at odds with Notre Dame's Catholic character.
In an address to faculty, Jenkins said he is exploring whether he needs to establish boundaries on what is permissible.
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"While any restriction on expression must be reluctant and restrained, I believe that, in some situations, given the distinctive character and aspirations of Notre Dame, it may be necessary to establish certain boundaries, while defending the appropriate exercise of academic freedom," Jenkins said.
Jenkins, who will present a similar speech today to students, is seeking input from students, faculty and alumni.
In his address, Jenkins drew a distinction between the academic freedom granted individual professors or students and that accorded group sponsorship of events, such as academic departments that sponsor artistic events.
"My concern is not with censorship, but with sponsorship," Jenkins said. Sponsorship of events by university departments may suggest to the larger community acceptance by the university, he said.
For example, if Notre Dame sponsored an anti-Semitic play, it would appear that the university endorses or at least acquiesces to anti-Semitism, he said.
"The Vagina Monologues" has been performed on campus for four years. The play will be performed on campus again this year, but in a classroom setting, Jenkins said. "There will not be fundraising activities as occurred in previous years, through the selling of tickets and an auction," he said.
"The Vagina Monologues" is a theatrical production that deals frankly with women's views on their bodies and sexuality. In past years, the money raised at the campus production was donated to the YWCA of St. Joseph County and S-O-S of Madison Center.
Jenkins said the organizers have laudable goals, such as encouraging discussion of the gift of sexuality and raising money for community groups.
The president vowed to work with students to advance ways to eliminate violence against women. "I have difficulty seeing, however, how the annual performance of 'The Vagina Monologues' is the appropriate means to these ends," he said.
Last year, playwright and "Vagina Monologues" creator Eve Ensler visited and spoke on campus. Her visit drew protests by conservative students and groups. Bishop John M. D'Arcy of the Catholic Diocese of Fort Wayne-South Bend publicly criticized Notre Dame for permitting the Queer Film Festival and "The Vagina Monologues" on campus.
The film festival was founded in 2004. Showing films and hosting panel discussions of gay-related themes, the festival -- renamed the Gay & Lesbian Film Festival -- is scheduled for Feb. 9-12 this year. Among films to be shown are "Brokeback Mountain" and "Gay Republicans."
Jenkins may have struck an academic nerve with faculty.
In a question-and-answer session afterward, there were references to McCarthyism and other historical efforts to stifle free speech.
Margot O'Brien, an instructor in the accountancy department, praised Jenkins for his action. "The Vagina Monologues" treats women as sexual objects and degrades them, she said. It's not a matter of academic freedom, she said. "It's a matter of treating something that is evil as good, and that's just wrong," she said.
Other faculty questioned Jenkins' approach.
"One thing we are forgetting about 'The Vagina Monologues' is that it's a piece that was chosen by the students," said Emily Phillips, a film, television and theater professor. Taking it away takes away the voice of the students, she said.
"It's a very viable, very powerful and very effective play that speaks directly to what happens to women," she said.
Jean Porter, a theology professor, questioned Jenkins' distinction between academic freedom for individual professors vs. departmental sponsorship of events. "Much of our scholarship and academic life is carried out collectively," she said.
English professor Margaret Doody noted that Shakespeare's "The Merchant of Venice," will be performed on campus in February by Actors from the London Stage. The character of Shylock traditionally has been considered an anti-Semitic stereotype, she noted.
"The Merchant of Venice" is a play that was greatly admired by Adolf Hitler and which many Jews find deeply anti-Semitic, said Peter Holland, a professor of Shakespeare studies and chair of the film, television and theater department. But he doesn't think the play should be canceled.
"The university is a place for intellectual discussion," Holland said. "That's why works we disagree with should be performed, read and discussed."
Monday, January 23, 2006
Another preview
Benedict XVI's Address on Forthcoming Encyclical
"I Wished to Show the Humanity of Faith"
VATICAN CITY, JAN. 23, 2006 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave today to the participants in a meeting organized by the Pontifical Council "Cor Unum" on the theme "But the Greatest of These Is Love" (1 Corinthians 13:13).
* * *
The cosmic excursion in which Dante wants to involve the reader in his "Divine Comedy" ends before the everlasting Light that is God himself, before that Light which at the same time is the love "which moves the sun and the other stars ("Paradise" XXXIII, verse 145). Light and love are but one thing. They are the primordial creative power that moves the universe.
If these words of the poet reveal the thought of Aristotle, who saw in the "eros" the power that moves the world, Dante's gaze, however, perceives something totally new and unimaginable for the Greek philosopher.
Eternal Light not only is presented with the three circles of which he speaks with those profound verses that we know: "Eternal Light, You only dwell within Yourself, and only You know You; Self-knowing, Self-known, You love and smile upon Yourself!" ("Paradise," XXXIII, verses 124-126). In reality, the perception of a human face -- the face of Jesus Christ -- which Dante sees in the central circle of light is even more overwhelming than this revelation of God as Trinitarian circle of knowledge and love.
God, infinite Light, whose incommensurable mystery had been intuited by the Greek philosopher, this God has a human face and -- we can add -- a human heart. In this vision of Dante is shown, on one hand, the continuity between the Christian faith in God and the search promoted by reason and by the realm of religions; at the same time, however, in it is also appreciated the novelty that exceeds all human search, the novelty that only God himself could reveal to us: the novelty of a love that has led God to assume a human face, more than that, to assume the flesh and blood, the whole of the human being.
God's "eros" is not only a primordial cosmic force, it is love that has created man and that bends before him, as the Good Samaritan bent before the wounded man, victim of thieves, who was lying on the side of the road that went from Jerusalem to Jericho.
Today the word "love" is so tarnished, so spoiled and so abused, that one is almost afraid to pronounce it with one's lips. And yet it is a primordial word, expression of the primordial reality; we cannot simply abandon it, we must take it up again, purify it and give back to it its original splendor so that it might illuminate our life and lead it on the right path. This awareness led me to choose love as the theme of my first encyclical.
I wished to express to our time and to our existence something of what Dante audaciously recapitulated in his vision. He speaks of his "sight" that "was enriched" when looking at it, changing him interiorly [The textual quotation in English is: "But through the sight, that fortified itself in me by looking, one appearance only to me was ever changing as I changed" (cf. "Paradise," XXXIII, verses 112-114)]. It is precisely this: that faith might become a vision-comprehension that transforms us.
I wished to underline the centrality of faith in God, in that God who has assumed a human face and a human heart. Faith is not a theory that one can take up or lay aside. It is something very concrete: It is the criterion that decides our lifestyle. In an age in which hostility and greed have become superpowers, an age in which we witness the abuse of religion to the point of culminating in hatred, neutral rationality on its own is unable to protect us. We are in need of the living God who has loved us unto death.
Thus, in this encyclical, the subjects "God," "Christ" and "Love" are welded, as the central guide of the Christian faith. I wished to show the humanity of faith, of which "eros" forms part, man's "yes" to his corporeal nature created by God, a "yes" that in the indissoluble marriage between man and woman finds its rooting in creation. And in it, "eros" is transformed into "agape," love for the other that no longer seeks itself but that becomes concern for the other, willingness to sacrifice oneself for him and openness to the gift of a new human life.
The Christian "agape," love for one's neighbor in the following of Christ, is not something foreign, put to one side or something that even goes against the "eros"; on the contrary, with the sacrifice Christ made of himself for man he offered a new dimension, which has developed ever more in the history of the charitable dedication of Christians to the poor and the suffering.
A first reading of the encyclical might perhaps give the impression that it is divided in two parts, that it is not greatly related within itself: a first, theoretical part that talks about the essence of love, and a second part that addresses ecclesial charity, with charitable organizations. However, what interested me was precisely the unity of the two topics, which can only be properly understood if they are seen as only one thing.
Above all, it was necessary to show that man is created to love and that this love, which in the first instance is manifested above all as "eros" between man and woman, must be transformed interiorly later into "agape," in gift of self to the other to respond precisely to the authentic nature of the "eros." With this foundation, it had then to be clarified that the essence of the love of God and of one's neighbor described in the Bible is the center of Christian life, it is the fruit of faith.
Then, it was necessary to underline in a second part that the totally personal act of the "agape" cannot remain as something merely individual, but, on the contrary, it must also become an essential act of the Church as community: that is, an institutional form is also needed that expresses itself in the communal action of the Church. The ecclesial organization of charity is not a form of social assistance that is superimposed by accident on the reality of the Church, an initiative that others could also take.
On the contrary, it forms part of the nature of the Church. Just as to the divine "Logos" corresponds the human announcement, the word of faith, so also to the "Agape," which is God, must correspond the "agape" of the Church, her charitable activity. This activity, in addition to its first very concrete meaning of help to the neighbor, also communicates to others the love of God, which we ourselves have received. In a certain sense, it must make the living God visible. In the charitable organization, God and Christ must not be strange words; in fact, they indicate the original source of ecclesial charity. The strength of "Caritas" depends on the strength of faith of all its members and collaborators.
The spectacle of suffering man touches our heart. But charitable commitment has a meaning that goes well beyond mere philanthropy. God himself pushes us in our interior to alleviate misery. In this way, in a word, we take him to the suffering world. The more we take him consciously and clearly as gift, the more effectively will our love change the world and awaken hope, a hope that goes beyond death.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
"It could cost the church [sic] some money."
Bishop Gumbleton has spoken. Assuming arguendo that what His Excellency reports about what happened to him is true, we all have reason to be grateful that, through grace, he overcame the harm and went on to do so much good. This is a very serious matter, obviously. Am I wrong, then, in thinking that "It could cost the church some money" is not something a successor to the apostles should say in the context of advocating an expansion of civil statutes of limitations for abuse claims? "The church" will pay. It's not His Excellency's parish that may be closed and then sold to pay the price of the episcopal negligence, etc. Where will the Masses be celebrated and the confessions heard, Your Excellency? I don't doubt that the litigation bills are raising episcopal consciousness; I do doubt and even deny that it's good for the Church for a bishop (publicly) to translate the shrinkage of parish life into terms that would satisfy Justice Holmes.
Monday, January 9, 2006
A Dominican perspective
Below is the Christmas letter Father Chysostom McVey, OP, Promoter General of the Dominican Family and Assistant to the Master General of the Order for the Apostolic Life, sent this year. It seems worth sharing.
Dear Family and Friends, January 2006
It has, I know, been quite a year for just about everybody: natural disasters (the earthquake toll in Pakistan alone is now 83,000, with survivors facing a cruel winter in the mountains, making the elderly and infants especially vulnerable) and man-made ones with tens of thousands of victims of an ideology, or racial and religious hatred, and random violence. ‘Where there are victims,’ as the Jesuit, Jon Sobrino, reminded a group of us Dominicans in El Salvador in December, ‘there are also victimizers.’ Several times during Advent, verses from Isaiah’s vision (Is 11.1-11) of a ‘peaceable kingdom’ reappear, with wolf and lamb living together, lions eating grass, being led by a child; babies crawl among poisonous snakes and a little child puts its hand in the hole of a vipers’ nest and remains unharmed. While there are animals and children in Isaiah’s vision, there is no mention of ‘man.’ Perhaps the peaceable kingdom is only possible if we become like children. They belong there; we older ‘victimizers’ do not. Where does responsibility lie? And what are we becoming? What is becoming of our world – hardly a ‘peaceable kingdom?’
Someone, in a recent article said he did not want u-topia, ‘no place,’ but eu-topia, ‘another place and a good place.’ I thought that particularly apt. Not utopia, ‘no place,’ which is nowhere, and can never be, but eutopia, ‘a good place,’ which can and must be everywhere. This is the kind of ‘good place’ Christians long for and work for: ‘What we hope for is what he promised: a new heaven and a new earth, where justice is at home’ (2 Pt 3.13). Along with Emily Dickenson’s poem about hope being ‘the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all,’ I discovered a new favorite from Thérèse of Lisieux, who said, ‘My personal folly is hoping.’ So is mine.
In Madrid last year, I picked up a book of Goya’a etchings. He was old and deaf in 1824 and he portrayed himself as an old man with long white hair and beard, stooped, and walking with two canes, yet above the drawing he had written, Aun aprendo, ‘I am still learning.’ It is above my desk now as I write. I think I identify with Goya because I am getting close to his age – and I am still learning – even from eight- and ten-year-old great nieces, who told me, ‘It’s better to be a girl because girls can do anything!’ I thought of sending that message to the gang on the other side of the Tiber but my hoping is not yet that outrageous.
My hoping has been strengthened this past year. By brothers and sisters who minister in Albania to a people still bruised from years of Communism; by brothers, sisters and laity in Vietnam who labor creatively under severe restrictions – and where one old Dominican told me, ‘Thank God for the Communists because they have kept us poor and faithful.’ Outside Saigon, the Order has several hospices for AIDS victims. We visited one for young men, ten in all, dying from AIDS related diseases. We prayed, sang, and then the doctor – who had earlier told me, ‘We die easily in Vietnam’ – asked them to share their hopes. They had not, most of them, lived a ‘good’ life, and one of them hoped ‘to live a little longer, to serve, to be able to say I’m sorry.’ As you can imagine, this year tears have lubricated my hoping. Somehow this seems the only proper response (although I am working on outrage too). I pray this year will bring us all closer to that ‘eutopia’ promised us and for which, deep down, we all yearn.
Chrys McVey (Tom)
Friday, January 6, 2006
Bishops Conferences exposed
Readers of MofJ may be interested in David Yamane's fine new book, The Catholic Church in State Politics: Negotiating Prophetic Demands & Political Realities. New York
A review of the book, which I prepared for American Catholic Studies, follows:
Until the early twentieth century, the Catholic bishops in the United States U.S.
The book begins with a history of the conferences; it then explicates the internal structures of the conferences; next it studies the strengths of the conferences and assesses the challenges they face in making Catholic perspectives heard in state law-making. As Yamane makes plain, the principal function of these conferences is not to teach Catholics; it is to influence public policy and law state by state. In the concluding chapters, Yamane analyzes the conferences’ place within the overall life of the Church in the modern, secularized world. The book is a cautious celebration of the state conferences’ efforts to help see a “seamless garment of life” ethic be given legal effect.
The book is well-written, thoroughly documented, and, in its consideration of questions of ecclesiology and of liberal political theory, both insightful and provocative. There can be no doubt but that David Yamane has done a great service by providing a rich empirical account of the work of the Church at the level of state politics. Readers will vary in their assessment of the appropriateness of the work Yamane describes and admires, but this is a book to be read by anyone with an interest in how the Catholic Church in the United States
Of particular future interest is the fact that, as Yamane demonstrates, the typical conference is headed by a board whose voting members are the bishops of the state; the trend over the last quarter-century has been away from lay membership on the boards. Under the direction of its board, each conference employs the services of lay people trained or experienced in legislative practice, law, or other disciplines. Their practical expertise has led to influence that unassisted successors to the apostles could not reasonably hope for. Yamane stresses that the conferences’ work carries the “authority” of the (local) Church in virtue of their largely episcopal-governed boards. Writing in 2004, Yamane was optimistic about the future of the conferences; he also noted (157) the reservations of then-Cardinal Ratzinger to institutional interpositions between local bishops and the Church universal.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
VIII
Amy, You're right, listening is crucial. But listening, though necessary, is not sufficient. You're certainly also right that the Church must make the Good News known in a way that is beautiful, attactive, and meaningful. The Church fails to do her work when the message is lost in transmission, and too often, due to the negligence or incompetence of the pastors, this happens. But what the Church has, that we as individuals do not, is the capacity authoritatively to hand on the deposit of the faith. What I hear, out on this limb, is a lot of people, you not among them, who despair because there is no way from here to the truth. Thanks to you, Steve, Rich, and so many others for opening up and pursuing this discussion!
PMB
VI
I don't disagree with you, Amy, unless you are asserting -- as John Paul II was not -- that the teaching authority of the Church is located elsewhere than in the college of bishops with the Holy Father at its head. Teaching, ruling, and santifying are the threefold munera of those in communion with the Holy See in the apostolic succession. Those who would teach need to listen, else they won't know what their hearers' questions are. Yes, it's arguable that the Magisterium in recent years hasn't always been good at listening. But, I would suggest, the heart of the problem, which I wouldn't want to write off as mere skeleton, is the growing denial that the Church through the Pope can speak definitively. "Dissent" from what is defined by the Church to be believed by the faithful includes an element of tragedy; if it doesn't, then we cannot affirm that the Holy Spirit prevents, at this level, the Church's slipping into error. If I had to climb out on a limb and say which is the greater problem for Catholics today, the Magisterium's failure to listen or the faithful's relativizing even of the Church's power authentically to communicate the deposit of faith, I think you'd know where to find me. But, unlike the Church on matters de fide, I could be wrong.
