Sunday, August 23, 2015
Ten years ago this July I was honored by several founders of the Mirror of Justice with their invitation to participate in this great project dedicated to the development and explanation of Catholic legal theory. A fundamental part of this project for me, and I think for others (be they contributors or readers), is to demonstrate this theory’s relevance to the law and its rule. As I said, I was honored to be invited, and it has been an extraordinary privilege to contribute with colleagues and friends on matters of pressing relevance—and, of course, there was the occasional bit of fun. On some occasions, I have enjoyed immensely the opportunity to exchange views with other contributors. I apologize to any of them who may have construed my desire to encounter them as something other than debate and discussion of matters which we all hold dear. I understand your passion for the arguments you presented; I am certain you acknowledge mine.
Whether we agreed or disagreed on finer points is not especially relevant to today’s posting; it was then and remains my objective to get closer to the heart of what Catholic teaching has to offer the law and our societies for the betterment of everyone so that the common good might be fulfilled and natural justice achieved. In particular, it was, is, and remains my perspective that the uniqueness of Catholic teachings and their relevance to civil law must ultimately concentrate on the nature of the human person and this person’s destiny—be it in this world or one’s ultimate destiny, which is union with God. The Second Vatican Council posed the question: quid est homo (what is man; what is the human person)? This statement and the question it presents reflect a crucial foundation stone of Catholic teaching and, therefore, have a bearing on what is done to develop Catholic legal theory. Well, that was how I saw and still see things that appear on this website.
But there is another reason why this statement about human nature and destiny is the catalyst for why I write and post today. About three weeks ago, I was informed that my then current chemotherapy had failed. This latest treatment joined its twelve predecessors in the minus rather than the plus column. Failure is not always easy to accept, but with the grace of God it can be. I knew this day would come sooner or later, so, as best I could, I tried to prepare for it with careful thought and sober prayer. With the thought and prayer in place, I concluded that the doctors and I had given it our best to try and control a disease that would eventually be uncontainable. Although my doctors aggressively pursue cancer cure, they know that they must also care for the patient in other ways, one of which is to respect the patient’s informed wishes. This sometimes means that the patient is saying he has had enough treatment that the best medical science can provide, and it is now time for nature and God to take their respective courses. This conclusion that I have made and accepted is not my disposition and vocation alone; they belong to everyone, especially the Christian and those who believe in and pray to God. Miracles can and do happen, but I do not ask for one. As a consequence of my discernment, I am now in palliative/hospice care. This means I receive bi-weekly phereses and blood transfusions at Dana Farber; in addition to these two items, I receive pain management care at my Jesuit infirmary.
In the interim, I soon hope to finish soon a book manuscript on, of all subjects, the Declaration on Religious Liberty and its relevance to the law. When this project is completed, I will ask that the blood transfusions stop. After all, they are only delaying the inevitable. But in the meantime, there is a little work still to be done and many prayers for you and so many others that must be offered. So, borrowing from Pere Jean in the 1987 French film, “Goodbye, children!”, I offer my own Au revoir, mes amis! À bientôt!
RJA sj
Thursday, August 20, 2015
You know those stories you always hear about competitors in Special Olympics meets choosing cooperation and helping over competition -- like turning back during a race to help competitors who stumble? Well, if you wonder whether they're true, here's one I know is true -- it's about a teammate on my son's Special Olympics gymnastics team. This fellow, Jack Campbell, is an incredibly gifted gymnast, and was chosen to represent the U.S. at the Special Olympics World Games in L.A. this summer. Here's the story, from the gymnastics club that sponsors our team:
Jack Campbell, member of the Mini Hops Special Olympics Gymnastics team, returned from World Games Competition in Los Angeles last week adorned with medals and ribbons for his performance in the Artistic Gymnastics competition! Gymnasts from all over the world competed over four days striving to fulfill the Special Olympic oath: “Let me win, but if I cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt.” Jack was both brave and he won! He took home gold in parallel bars and floor; silver in vault; bronze in high bar; fourth in still rings and fifth in pommel horse. That added up to an All Around bronze medal in his Level Two division. It was an impressive showing and the U.S. fans loudly let him know he was a favorite.
But Special Olympics is not just about sports; it is about sportsmanship and friendship. Jack proved once again at the Games that he comes out on top there, too. As it happened, a Chinese athlete showed up at the World Games only to discover that he had learned an outdated set of routines and did not know the correct ones. What a potential disaster for any athlete who has trained for years to reach the height of the sport! But Jack came to the rescue. Working with the coaches during long practices, Jack taught the routines to his colleague. With this little bit of help from his friends, the Chinese athlete was able to compete and win in a different division. That kind of spirit shines through Jack, in sports and in life, and Mini Hops is proud to welcome him home.
Monday, August 17, 2015
I've been reading Tocqueville's L'Ancien Régime et la Révolution, a work that discusses the several causes of the French Revolution and one of whose basic themes is that the legal and political reforms following the Revolution were actually already in place in the late stages of the ancien régime. After the distempers of the Revolution subsided, those same governmental reforms and ways of conducting state business returned.
In fact it was the reforms that hastened on the Revolution. The anger and dissatisfaction of the people became unbearable not because equality was in decline or at its lowest ebb before the Revolution, but because it was rising. The point is about the political psychology of equality, and, allowing for changed circumstances, it isn't applicable only to pre-revolutionary states but can be seen to operate in many contexts. The more people believe themselves to be equal to one another in every respect, the less inequalities of any respect become tolerable. From Chapter XVI ("That the Reign of Louis XVI Was the Most Prosperous Era Of the Old Monarchy, and How That Prosperity Hastened the Revolution"):
Revolutions are not always brought about by a decline from bad to worse. Nations that have endured patiently and almost unconsciously the most overwhelming oppression, often burst into rebellion against the yoke the moment it begins to grow lighter. The regime which is destroyed by a revolution is almost always an improvement over its predecessor, and experience teaches that the most critical moment for bad governments is the one which witnesses their first steps toward reform. A sovereign who seeks to relieve his subjects after long periods of oppression is lost, unless he be a man of great genius. Evils which are patiently endured when they seem inevitable become intolerable when once the idea of escape from them is suggested. The very redress of grievances throws new light on those which are left untouched, and throws fresh poignancy to their smart: if the pain be less, the patient’s sensibility is greater. Never had the feudal system seemed so hateful to the French as at the moment of its proximate destruction….
No one in 1780 had any idea that France was on the decline; on the contrary, there seemed to be no bounds to its progress. It was then that the theory of the continual and indefinite perfectibility of man took its rise. Twenty years before, nothing was hoped from the future; in 1780, nothing was feared. Imagination anticipated a coming era of unheard of felicity, diverted attention from present blessings, and concentrated it upon novelties.
I was truly surprised to read an editorial in our local paper this Sunday offering a counterpoint to Tom's recent post about the burgeoning 'liberal arrogance." To put my surprise into context, the Star Tribune is - how shall I put this -- not known for its favorable coverage of the pro-life perspective. Its coverage about the Planned Parenthood videos has been largely limited to publishing letters to the editor from people complaining about the videos, and stories about how local Planned Parenthood affiliates are "weathering the storm." One day I heard on the Relevant Radio that 100s of people had shown up to protest in front of a local Planned Parenthood. I checked the Star Tribune the next day, and found no mention of it. However, there was an extensive story (with a picture) of the protesters in front of the dental office of the guy who shot Cecil the lion.
(This reminded me of a game I sometimes play. Open up the website for CNN, and the website for Fox News. Are they even covering the same planet?)
So, imagine my shock to read this brave and honest piece by D.J. Tice, exploring this idea:
It would be surprising if our generation produced the first morally infallible era in history. Chances seem good that, like the people of every age before us, most of us today are doing and thinking certain things — or at least going along with certain things — that will leave our descendants more or less aghast, wondering how we could have been so blind.
And the nature of moral blind spots is that we can’t be sure what our era’s worst mistakes are.
I pondered all this uncomfortably when I broke down recently and watched the most, well, appalling of the hidden-camera videos documenting Planned Parenthood’s fetal-tissue donation program. It’s the one in which Planned Parenthood personnel and undercover activists posing as tissue buyers use tweezers to idly pick through a lab tray holding little arms and legs and livers and whatnot.