The Catholic Archdiocese of Washington D.C. is threatening that Catholic
Charities will withdraw from city
contracts that fund services to homeless and other poor people in the dead of
winter if D.C. approves same sex marriages. http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/11/11/AR2009111116943.html
The bill would not require that the Church marry same sex couples or make space
for such marriages, but D.C. law requires that recipients of funds not
discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation. “Fearful that they could be
forced, among other things, to extend employee benefits to same-sex married
couples, church officials said they would have no choice but to abandon their
contracts with the city.” Id.
Although I do not agree with the leadership of the Church on same sex
marriage, that is not my point. I am puzzled about Catholic Charities'
policies. Does Catholic Charities currently hire gays and lesbians, but wants
to draw the line against married gays and lesbians? Why is that the place to
draw the line? Does Catholic Charities hire Catholics who are divorced and
remarried? If so, why are same sex couples different under Catholic theology?
"If the city requires this, we can't do it," Susan Gibbs,
spokeswoman for the archdiocese, said Wednesday. "The city is saying in
order to provide social services, you need to be secular. For us, that's really
a problem." Is that really what the problem is? Catholic Charities is the
recipient of federal funds all over the country. For years (much to the chagrin
of Rick Garnett and others) they have been required not to discriminate on the
basis of religion with respect to their employees (the Directors are either a
formal or informal exception to this) and Catholic Charities has complied. If
the concern is secularity, Catholic Charities succumbed to that a long time ago.
One columnist charges that the Church is using the poor as a political tool to
stop gay marriage.http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/11/12/AR2009111210561_2.html?sub=AR
Maybe that is what is going on. If so, the Church has lost its grip on the
gospel. But I do not know what is going on. I am mystified.
For other criticism, see Eduardo’s post on this. http://www.commonwealmagazine.org/blog/?p=5377. For a defence of the Church in this matter, see http://www.examiner.com/examiner/x-9452-DC-Catholic-Living-Examiner~y2009m11d12-Samesex-marriage-law-forces-Washington-Archdiocese-to-reconsider-city-social-service-partnerships.For the language of the religious exemption, see http://www.washingtoncitypaper.com/blogs/sexist/2009/11/11/dc-marriage-bills-religious-exemption-finalized/
Question for the RNC: Can you spell 'Pharisee'?
<p>Salon.com Life | RNC's insurance covers abortion</p>RNC's insurance covers abortion
By the reasoning behind the Stupak
amendment, the committee might have paid to terminate employees' pregnancies
Tracy Clark-Flory
Nov. 13, 2009 |
Holy hypocrisy, GOP: The Republican National Committee's health insurance
plan covers abortion. This news comes by way of Politico's
Meredith Shiner and Jonathan Allen, who appropriately point out the obvious
conflict here: "The party’s own platform calls [abortion] 'a fundamental assault
on innocent human life.'" The RNC didn't opt out of abortion coverage, though,
even though that is allowed by Cigna, its insurer. Worse yet, though, is the
fact that 176 House Republicans voted for the Stupak amendment, which restricts
federal funds from going toward insurance plans that cover abortion. God forbid
the government help you to get an insurance plan just like the one enjoyed
by the RNC.
When Politico called up RNC spokeswoman Gail Gitcho to ask about this funny
little wrinkle, she explained that, oh, uh, the policy was instituted before
Michael Steele became the RNC chairman. What about philosophical consistency,
though? According to the reasoning behind the Stupak amendment, by paying for a
plan that covers abortion, the RNC itself just might have paid for
abortions.
Check out (and then groan at)
this "animated cartoon" in
The Washington Post. What we are seeing, I fear, is an ugly re-emergence of Blanshard-ism. "The Bishops", or "The Catholic Church", is -- for some -- simply an all-purpose bug-a-boo; that "the Bishops" speak for or support something is -- for the new Blanshards -- seen as, and used as, a reason to oppose that something. Their support for something is presumed to be part of a nefarious plot against American values (unless, of course, their support is convenient, in which case it is happily exploited). Troubling.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
I'm in beautiful Newark, where Seton Hall is hosting a marvelous conference titled Religious Legal Theory: The State of the Field. Most of the conversations are of direct interest to MoJers. In my own remarks, I tried to lay out some of the methodologies marking Catholic legal theory, distinguishing CLT that proclaims from CLT that describes, and distinguishing the prophetic from the pragmatic. I also described my hesitation when a newspaper reporter interested in my forthcoming book asked "So are you Catholic?" after we had discussed a couple of cases involving Catholic Charities:
Perhaps my fear is that the religious label, especially the Catholic label, will be an easy way to pigeon-hole me and more easily dismiss my opinions as pre-ordained conclusions dictated by the fact of my submission to an authority beyond reason, rendering them less authentic and even less human. In this regard, my hesitation likely reflects my own misconception of what it means to be a Catholic legal scholar and about what it means to be a Catholic. My faith should be the impetus to delve even more deeply into the heart of what it means to be human, to grapple unflinchingly with the reality of our existence. In a real sense, Catholic legal theory exhibits much of the same promise and peril of my own personal faith journey. When I use faith as an escape, when I toss off trite prayers to numb myself to the tragedy that unfolds around me, rather than praying to express and share in the depth of that grief, I am rightly dismissed by the grieving. Similarly, when I use faith in my scholarship as a bludgeon to wield against those who reject my worldview, or when I dress up my unsupported assertions as self-evident simply because they come from my faith tradition, I am rightly dismissed by those legal scholars who are authentically struggling with the question of how imperfect people should govern themselves in an imperfect world. The Catholic legal theory project has much to contribute to the legal academy, starting with the anthropological question of what it even means to be human. Our contribution depends not just on the relevance of our answers, but also on the humanity with which we extend those answers.
Being asked to reflect -- and articulate those reflections publicly -- on the Catholic legal theory project was a helpful impetus to step back and wrestle with the question, what is the difference, if any, between a Catholic doing legal theory and "Catholic legal theory?" A further impetus is David Skeel's articulation this afternoon of (evangelical) Christian legal theory, which sounded, as Skeel framed it, a lot different than Catholic legal theory -- i.e., directed toward an audience of one's co-religionists, best pursued as a side-interest to "regular" scholarship (at least pre-tenure), and still difficult to discern except on the margins of the legal academy. (On this last point, the rollicking response to Skeel's article on Christian legal scholarship continued today, with David Caudill's "On Skeel's Rhetorical Invention of a Failed Project.") A recurring issue for me is the extent to which Christian (or Catholic) legal theory needs to be explicit about its underlying religious commitments in order to fit within the genre (and should it even be a genre?). I also enjoyed listening to thoughtful papers from Bob Cochran, John Coverdale, John Nagle, Marc Poirer, and Sam Levine. More tomorrow . . .