For starters, Professor Steven Smith has written several interesting papers -- available at SSRN -- on the problem of conscience. In "The Tenuous Case for Conscience", he writes:
If there is any single theme that has provided the foundation of modern liberalism and has infused our more specific constitutional commitments to freedom of religion and freedom of speech, that theme is probably "freedom of conscience." But some observers also perceive a progressive cheapening of conscience - even a sort of degradation. Such criticisms suggest the need for a contemporary rethinking of conscience. When we reverently invoke "conscience," do we have any idea what we are talking about? Or are we just exploiting a venerable theme for rhetorical purposes without any clear sense of what "conscience" is or why it matters?
This essay addresses two questions. The first is discussed briefly: what is "conscience"? What do we have in mind when we say that someone acted from "conscience"? A second question receives more extended discussion: granted its importance to the individuals who assert it, still, why should "conscience" deserve special respect or accommodation from society, or from the state? That question forces us to consider the metaethical presuppositions of claims of conscience. The discussion suggests that claims to conscience may be defensible only on certain somewhat rarified moral and metaethical assumptions. The discussion further suggests that shifts in such assumptions have transformed the meaning of claims to "freedom of conscience," so that such claims typically now mean almost the opposite of what they meant when asserted by early champions of conscience such as Thomas More, Roger Williams, and John Locke.
In "Interrogating Thomas More: The Conundrums of Conscience," he writes:
The martyrdom of Thomas More for refusing to take an oath affirming Henry VIII's marriage to Anne Boleyn and his supremacy over the church has fascinated historians, playwrights, and their readers. Why did More refuse, at such sacrifice to take an oath that nearly everyone in the realm (including More's family and friends) had taken - and that they regarded him as obstinate and absurd for not taking? Why did More refuse to explain the reasons for his refusal, even to close family and friends, beyond saying that they were reasons of "conscience"? And how can More's eloquent affirmation that he would "leave every man to own conscience" and that "every man should leave me to mine" be reconciled with his active persecution and execution of Protestants whose consciences impelled them to embrace what More regarded as heresy? This essay investigates these questions and reflects on their significance for modern commitments to (and difficulties with) the idea of "freedom of conscience."
In another vein, but also on the question of conscience, I'm very grateful to Steve Shiffrin, for his note, and also to Rob Vischer for his response. I'd offer just three, minor thoughts about their exchange.
Steve writes to Rob: "You seem to suggest that Catholic legal theory can help to lead American Catholics away from their disagreements with the Vatican. What I like about the Mirror of Justice site is that it brings together people who bring quite different Catholic perspectives to the site. Your comment seems to suggest that Catholic legal theory is committed to the view that American Catholics are wrong." To which Rob replies: "I think it's important that we help elucidate connections between the Gospel and our real-world environment, particularly connections that run along our legal and political cultures, challenging each other to reflect more deeply on what it means to follow Christ in the modern world. More often than not, this effort will be directed toward encouraging Catholics to recognize the wisdom of Church teaching on a range of issues that are given short shrift in the current climate (notably war, materialism, and poverty, not just sexuality). At other times, though, Catholic legal theorists may challenge the Church to recognize overlooked or potentially misconstrued implications of the Gospel."
I think it is worth remembering -- because, in the last few weeks, the press covering the death of Pope John Paul II and the election of Pope Benedict XVI rairly has -- that not all "American Catholics" disagree with "the Vatican." (I'm putting aside the additional point that many American Catholics who profess disagreement with "the Vatican" -- I'm certainly not talking about Professor Shiffrin or any of my MOJ colleagues here -- have, I think, been misinformed by the press about what "the Vatican" claims and teaches. The coverage of Pope Benedict's pre-election theological work -- on, for example, "Truth and Tolerance" -- has, in my judgment, been egregiously bad in this respect).
Maybe I'm being pollyannish, trying to paper over differences, but -- as one would hope, I suppose -- most Catholics believe and assent to most of what the Magisterium holds out as the crucial content of the Catholic faith: We have been redeemed through the saving work of Jesus Christ, who is Lord, who has gifted us with the Church and its sacraments. And, in many cases, I imagine that American Catholics' failure to embrace that content has more to do with lax instruction than specific rejection. (For example, I cannot help thinking that polls revealing that a non-trivial number of Catholics do not accept the divinity of Christ probably means that 10% didn't understand the question, or has never been given even rudimentary catechesis -- not that there is a big schism between the United States and Rome on the matter). The press loves to talk about -- and, not surprisingly, we MOJ-types often talk about -- the hot-button areas of serious, often conscientious and principled, disagreement, but I like to think that, again, the vast majority of us agree about the vast majority of the Church's teachings.
Also, it seems worth emphasizing that there is nothing uniquely "American" about contemporary rejection of -- or failure to embrace -- certain teachings regarding the Usual Suspects issues. That is, do American Catholics tend not to embrace the Magisterium's teaching regarding contraception because they are "American," or for some other reason? I'm not sure.
Finally, I think that there are a number of questions where (a) Catholic teaching, properly understood, poses a real challenge to "American" premises and practices; but (b) most of us would agree, despite our various differences, that part of our job here at MOJ might well be -- in Steve's words -- to "help to lead American Catholics away from their disagreements with the [Magisterium]." To the extent that American Catholics, qua Americans, believe that (say) utilitarian reasoning can and should supply the answers to moral questions about human life and the common good, then these Americans -- however well-meaning -- are mistaken, and in need of "Catholic legal theory's" help.
Rick
So far, we have been pleased to post contributions to our Online Symposium papers and thoughts from the following thoughtful and distinguished authors:
Scott Fitzgibbon, on "Solidarity, Love, and Friendship"
Lisa Schiltz on "Larry Summers and John Paul II"
Dan Philpott on "An Ethic of Reconciliation"
Bob Cochran on "The Economics of Freedom"
Fr. Robert Araujo on "The Rule of Law"
Fr. John Coughlin on "Human Dignity"
Michael Scaperlanda on "John Paul the Great"
More to come!
Rick
The latest contribution to the MOJ Online Symposium on the jurisprudential legacy of Pope John Paul II comes from Boston College's Scott Fitzgibbon. Click here for "A Wojtylan Insight into Solidarity, Love, and Friendship: Shared Consciousness and the Culture of Life." Here is the introduction:
One of Pope John Paul II’s encyclicals identifies the virtue of solidarity. A document from the recent Synod for Europe refers to a “crisis of solidarity.” In the year 2000, the Holy Father stated that ‘the century now beginning ought to be the century of solidarity.”
To refer to the virtue of solidarity is to refer to the goods of close affiliations: friendships, households, marriages, and the bonds among citizens, partners, members of the staffs of hospitals, and the faculties of universities. To warn of a crisis of solidarity is to observe that there has been, in the Twentieth Century, a crisis of affiliation; a crisis of philia. It has been as though man were losing his capacity to be a political animal (as Aristotle called him); and "not only a political but also a house-holding animal" (as Aristotle also called him} and a koinonikon being: a partnership-forming creature. It has been, has it not, as though man were losing his capacity to be a culture-forming, culture-belonging animal -- a creature which forms and nourishes a life-sustaining culture, rather than a culture of death. To refer hopefully to a forthcoming century of solidarity is to invite us to a deeper understanding of the structures of close affiliation.
To invite us to a deeper understanding of affiliation is to invite us to think anew about the philosophy of the person and his communities. To think anew about just those things seemed to be the life work of Professor Karol Wojtyla prior to his election as Pope John Paul II; and some of his writings (scholarly writings; also plays and poems) develop impressive insights on those subjects. This Article discerns one major line of development suggested by his writings about the mind and identifies its implications, occasionally made explicit in Wojtylan writings, for an enriched understanding of human solidarities and how they can go wrong.
Rick
Cornell law prof Steve Shiffrin has some good questions for me following my post on authority and conscience:
The new Pope has been interpreted to say (rightly or wrongly) that the failure to follow the church's lead on a number of issues is an indication of a sinfully formed conscience. I am curious what you think. Suppose a Catholic who disagrees after prayerful consideration of the church's position on say birth control, sexual orientation, divorce, mandatory celibacy, or the ordination of women. Suppose the Catholic feels a duty as a matter of conscience to speak out on these issues. Recognizing that the Catholic might be wrong on the merits, is it your position that the Catholic has a duty not to follow his or her subjective conscience (however carefully formed)? What should the same Catholic have done in the past when he or she disagreed with the Church's position on slavery, interest on loans, evolution, the purpose of sex in marriage (thus, previously ruling out the rhythm method), or religious liberty? My goal here is not to debate you on the issue. I am just curious about your position.
This leads me to a second question.You seem to suggest that Catholic legal theory can help to lead American Catholics away from their disagreements with the Vatican. What I like about the Mirror of Justice site is that it brings together people who bring quite different Catholic perspectives to the site. Your comment seems to suggest that Catholic legal theory is committed to the view that American Catholics are wrong. Have I misread you?
My earlier post may have left a mistaken impression, no doubt due to my own lack of clarity. When I denigrated the "purportedly ominpotent conscience," I did not mean to offer in its place a completely eviscerated conscience. Indeed, my own tendency is to want to elevate conscience above all else in matters of faith.
This inclination is no doubt due in part to the individualist strain of my evangelical upbringing. Even there, though, I learned that the operation of conscience has its limits. Since I was a young boy, for example, I've always struggled to reconcile the existence of Hell with a loving God. I still haven't been able to reach a satisfactory reconciliation, but in some ways I learned to push the question to the side, neither openly defying the religious authority (in the case of my upbringing, scriptural passages) nor pretending that my conscience simply reflects authority (I don't deny that I still struggle with the issue).
Now it's relatively easy for me to push the question of Hell to the sidelines of my faith journey (though it wasn't when I was a boy and the fear of Hell overwhelmed me); much more difficult would be the marginalization (much less subjugation) of my conscience when it defied religious authority on a question that is central to my existence, e.g., the issue of sexual orientation to a gay man or lesbian.
In the new First Things, George Cardinal Pell has an essay titled, "The Inconvenient Conscience," in which he writes that conscience:
is neither the apprehending of an alien law nor the devising of our own laws. Rather, conscience is the free acceptance of the objective moral law as the basis of all our choices. The formation of a Christian conscience is thus a dignifying and liberating experience; it does not mean a resentful submission to God's law but a free choosing of that law as our life's ideal.
And if a Catholic does not choose God's law as it is embodied in Church teaching, according to Cardinal Pell, "that should not be the end of the matter but the beginning of a process of conversion, education, and quite possibly repentance."
My reference to conscience as not being omnipotent signals the extent to which I agree with Cardinal Pell's understanding: if, as a Catholic, I dispute the Church's teaching on a given issue, I have much cause for reflection, prayer and conversation with other believers. But I'm not comfortable with the suggestion that the properly formed conscience is defined by its acceptance of Church teaching, as Cardinal Pell implies. Sometimes, the end result of sincere reflection, prayer, and conversation is continued disagreement. My inclination is to create as much space as possible for such conversations to continue within the Church without precluding the possibility that dissenters may actually turn out to function as agents of change. (The space should not be so endless as to create a vacuum; there's no point in having a conversation about whether Jesus is the son of God, to take an easy example.)
As for Professor Shiffrin's question about MoJ's stance toward American Catholics, I think it's important that we help elucidate connections between the Gospel and our real-world environment, particularly connections that run along our legal and political cultures, challenging each other to reflect more deeply on what it means to follow Christ in the modern world. More often than not, this effort will be directed toward encouraging Catholics to recognize the wisdom of Church teaching on a range of issues that are given short shrift in the current climate (notably war, materialism, and poverty, not just sexuality). At other times, though, Catholic legal theorists may challenge the Church to recognize overlooked or potentially misconstrued implications of the Gospel. (That was the point of my earlier post on John Courtney Murray.)
Again, I'm new to Catholicism, and thus have little life experience in the context of a religious community that takes hierarchical authority seriously. (In my experience, when conscience runs up against religious authority, we start a new church.) I'm anxious to get the views of other folks.
Rob
I am in need of some help from my fellow bloggers and readers on thinking through the issue raised by Michael P. on the Church, Condoms, and Aids.
I would break down the question in two ways - first, is the condom use taking place within marriage or outside of marriage, and second, is the question one of morality or prudential judgment.
Situation 1. If one spouse is infected with HIV/AIDS, couldn't a condom be used for the purpose of protecting against the transmission of the disease (HIV/AIDS) as long as the married couple is not using the condom for the purpose of treating the possibility of the creation of new life as a disease?
Situation 2. When the sexual act occurs outside of marriage (especially where there is no intimacy such as in a case where a women exchanges the use of her body for money), the unitive aspect of the coupling is absent. In these situations, the degradation of self - the giving of a body as an object for the pleasure of another - has already taken place. Does it add anything to the degradation to use a condom for protection against a) the disease of HIV/AIDS or b) the procreative aspects of sexual union, since the unitive and procreative are inherently conjoined? (As an aside, I should make clear that I am not making a subjective moral judgment about desperate women in desperate situations but stating an objective fact about the degradation of self, a fact that I am sure many of these women understand all too well).
If my analysis is correct, then condom use would be morally permissible in Situation 1 because it is not meant to inhibit the pro-creative possibilities of the union but only the anti-creative nature of the disease. And, in Situation 2, the use of a condom is no less morally impermissible than sex act itself because engaging in sex outside the marital union destroys the procreative as well as the unitive purposes of sex.
Addressing situation 2, it seems to me that the Church is right to teach abstinence - that the sexual union ought to take place within marriage. Since this is the Truth revealed in our Tradition, what else can it teach? But, given the real world reality of non-marital sex with grave consequences, could the Church, consistent with its theology, support (or at least not condemn) condom use in these situations. Here, given my analysis above, the answer is yes.
If my analysis is correct so far (and I stand ready to be corrected), then the question becomes a prudential question. And, here it becomes less about sex and more about how do you help someone engaged in destructive behavior. The question is akin to how to deal with drug addicts and the dangers (including the danger of transmitting HIV/AIDS) of using unclean needles. Is it prudent to supply (or promote -or at least condone- the supplying) of clean needles to drug addicts? Isn't that the real issue here?
I look forward to hearing from others.
Michael S.
Each MOJ author can test for themselves whether they are using too many or too few (see Rob's post for MOJ's overall score) big words by going to this website and entering the URL for their personal MOJ category. This could be a good distraction when grading time comes around in a couple of weeks (although I must fess up - I have already checked my Fog Index score).
n
the days after Pope John Paul II died, only his role in helping bring
on the collapse of Communism earned more comment than his gift for
reaching young people with the challenge of the Gospel.