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.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Dignitas Personae

The Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith has just issued Dignitas Personae, an important new document on biotechnology. This document is a successor to Donum Vitae, which was issued in 1987. I haven't had a chance to read the document yet but I hope to have a comment soon. Here is a link to John Allen's commentary.

Richard M.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

What Does the Evangelical Leader's Resignation Mean?

From Christianity Today:

Richard Cizik resigned Wednesday night as vice president for governmental affairs of the National Association of Evangelicals (NAE) during a week of growing uproar over his comments that he is shifting his views on same-sex unions.

Cizik later apologized and said he was opposed to civil unions as well as gay marriage, but it's not clear how convincing the retraction could be.  The resignation of Cizik, the strong evangelical advocate for anti-global-warming policies, could end up meaning any of several things.  (1) The movement to mobilize evangelicals to take steps against global warming will lose credibility because one of its main voices has been discredited for suggesting he was moving outside the evangelical consensus against same-sex unions.  (2) This is a sign of how strong that evangelical consensus remains.  Or (3) Cizik's (temporary?) shift is a sign of where more and more evangelicals will go in the future.  Or all of the above.

On the same radio program, Cizik also expressed openness to government-supported contraception to reduce abortions, saying that evangelicals "are not Catholics who oppose contraception per se."  But the Christianity Today story suggests (though it does not explicitly say) that it was the civil-unions remark that caused the greatest disturbance.

Tom B.

 

Mike Huckabee and Jon Stewart on gay marriage

Here.  The interchange, which took place this week, begins at about 13:50.

"Faith, Finances, and the Future"

Those who are interested, as we all should be, in the state and future of Catholic education in the United States, might want to check out this new report, "Faith, Finances, and the Future:  The Notre Dame Study of U.S. Pastors", just put out by my colleagues with Notre Dame's Institute for Educational Initiatives.

In (somewhat) related news, I was delighted to learn that the founder and energy behind Notre Dame's Alliance for Catholic Education program, Fr. Tim Scully, was awarded the Presidential Citizenship Medal by President Bush, for “committing his life to strengthening communities through faith-based education that prepares individuals for a lifetime of achievement, service and compassion."

The Irish are stinking up the football field, but moving the ball pretty well (sorry!) when it comes to Catholic schools.

Brewbaker on Law and Human Making

Alabama law prof and friend of MoJ Bill Brewbaker has posted a new paper, Law, Higher Law, and Human Making.  Here's the abstract:

This paper is a preliminary investigation of what Christian theology might teach us about the nature of human creative activity and its relationship to judging and lawmaking. Rather than attempt to survey and synthesize multiple theological accounts of human making, it focuses on just one - Dorothy Sayers' The Mind of the Maker. The foundational analogy that drives Sayers' account of human creativity is the relation between God's creative activity and that of human beings made in his image. Sayers argues that human creative activity has a trinitarian structure, which she identifies as Idea, Energy and Power. These three elements correspond roughly to (i) the whole Idea of the work in the mind of the artist, with reference to which the creative activity is carried out (Father), (ii) the creative Activity that makes the work incarnate (Son) and (iii) the work's Power to influence the human person and the community's public context (Spirit).

Sayers' account suggests an alternative to simple affirmations that law is either found or made. There may well be in a society a normative institution that we might call The Law - an accretion of cultural artifacts that form the context of public action, reflecting a community's values and particular circumstances - or at least those of its ruling elites or groups, as well as its rules, its legal traditions, and, in an incomplete way, the general loves and commitments of the community. While one might presume, on the basis of the Christian revelation, that there will always be some connection at some points with moral truth, there is no reason to presume that such a connection necessarily exists all the way down, or even very much of the way down, the chain of legal particularities. Yet it would seem to be undeniable that a community's traditions - though they themselves are shifting and changing - exert a remarkable pull in particular and identifiable directions at any given time. This pull may be strong enough that it is possible for judges to declare The Law, with the attendant goods of stability, predictability, consonance with existing social norms, etc. without equating The Law with transcendent moral truth.

This looks like a must-read for MoJers.

Newsweek on the Bible on marriage

Newsweek's cover story on the Christian case for same-sex marriage has drawn a heap of criticism.  Fanning the flames is editor Jon Meacham's introductory note stating that "No matter what one thinks about gay rights — for, against or somewhere in between — this conservative resort to biblical authority is the worst kind of fundamentalism."  Get Religion criticizes the article and the editor's note here.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

An Important Anniversary

The Merton Institute for Contemplative Living
 
On this 40th anniversary of Thomas Merton's death,  we offer a reflection by Frederick Smock, Chair of  the English Department at Bellarmine University.
 
 
 
 The monk/poet's journey toward silence
 
By Frederick Smock
 
Special to The Courier-Journal
 
On the occasion of the 40th anniversary of Thomas Merton's death, I want to think about silence. Certainly, Merton took a vow of silence, and he was occasionally silenced by the Vatican. But I am not thinking of those forms of silence. Rather, I want to think about silence and the poet's art.
 
Much of a monk's life is spent in silence. Much of a poet's life is spent in silence, too -- a poet spends a fraction of his time actually writing poems. Merton was both a monk and a poet, and thus well-acquainted with silence. Like meditation, and like prayer, poetry is surrounded by silence. Poetry begins and ends in silence. Silence is also inherent within a poem, like the silences between notes in music. As the great Chinese poet Yang Wan-li said, a thousand years ago, "A poem is made of words, yes, but take away the words and the poem remains."
 
Still, when we think of silence, we do not necessarily think of Merton. He was a voluble man, and a prolific writer. He continues to publish, posthumously. He always seems to be speaking to us. Bookshelves groan under the accumulating weight of his oeurvre. However, late in his life, Merton lamented the fact that he had written so many editorials, and not more poems and prayers -- forms that partake of silence. "More and more I see the necessity of leaving my own ridiculous 'career' as a religious journalist," he wrote in his journal (Dec. 2, 1959). "Stop writing for publication -- except poems and creative meditations."
 
"What do I really want to do?" Merton asked himself, in his journal (June 21, 1959). "Long hours of quiet in the woods, reading a little, meditating a lot, walking up and down in the pine needles in bare feet." What a man commits to his journal is, at once, the most private and the most authentic version of his self. Books written for public consumption are not errant, just not as heartfelt. In his journal for the Feast of St. Thomas Aquinas (March 7, 1961), Merton wrote, "Determined to write less, to gradually vanish." He added, at the end of that entry, "The last thing I will give up writing will be this journal and notebooks and poems. No more books of piety."
 
Life is a journey toward silence, and not just the silence of death. Youth talks a lot -- is noisy. Old age is reticent. There is so much to consider, after all. Older men tend to hold their tongues. They know the wisdom of forbearance. To have seen many things is to reserve judgment. In this modern era, when news and politics are dominated by endlessly talking heads, silence becomes a precious commodity. The mere absence of speech sounds like silence. But true silence is a presence, not an absence. A fullness. A richness that depends for its worth on the purity of intent, not just the lack of distractions.
 
In a late journal entry (Dec. 4, 1968), Merton wrote of visiting the grand stupas of Buddha and Ananda at Gil Vihara, Sri Lanka. "The silence of the extraordinary faces. The great smiles. Huge and yet subtle. Filled with every possibility, questioning nothing, knowing everything, rejecting nothing...." Speaking of the figure of Ananda, Merton concluded, "It says everything. It needs nothing. Because it needs nothing it can afford to be silent, unnoticed, undiscovered." He also photographed these statues, focusing on their beatific serenity.
 
When we are silent, we can hear the wind in the trees, and the water in the brook, and is this not more eloquent than anything that we ourselves might have to say? Of living in his newly-built hermitage, Merton wrote in his journal (Feb. 24, 1965), "I can imagine no other joy on earth than to have such a place and to be at peace in it, to live in silence, to think and write, to listen to the wind and to all the voices of the wood, to live in the shadow of the big cedar cross, to prepare for my death...."
 
Is it ironic for a writer to praise silence? No more so, perhaps, than to praise ignorance, which is what Wendell Berry does in his poem "Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front." There Berry writes, "Praise ignorance, for what man has not encountered, he has not destroyed." So, perhaps we should praise silence, for as much as a man has not said, he has not lied.
 
Praise of silence runs throughout Merton's meditations. For just one example: of his teaching of the novices at Gethsemani, he wrote (July 4, 1952), "Between the silence of God and the silence of my own soul stands the silence of the souls entrusted to me."
 
Certainly, since his death, Merton has been silent -- if not silenced. There is also the soft rustle, just out of hearing, of the poems and prayers he did not live to write.
 
Frederick Smock is chairman of the English Department at Bellarmine University. His recent book is Pax Intrantibus: A Meditation on the Poetry of Thomas Merton (Broadstone Books).

 

 
 
Robert Toth
Executive Director 
The Merton Institute for Contemplative Living




Following Christ in the Church: A Response to a Law Student

My daughter Anamaria writes:

 

"Professor Perry posted a letter by a law student addressing the issue of same-sex marriages within the Catholic Church.  The student says, "For all of the good done by the Church, and for the strength and beauty of its tradition, I have a hard time imagining myself returning to weekly mass if the Church does not address what I feel is its immoral treatment of many people within and without its sanctuaries."  He misses the point.  I don't go to mass because of "the good done by the Church" but because God became man and walked among us, founded this Church, and is physically present within the Eucharist.  With that starting point, two things follow: 1. I have to go to weekly mass, even if the Church is participating in something that I see as wrong and 2. I have to approach what she is saying with great humility and a great openness, with an idea that perhaps the Church is right and I am wrong. 

 

"How do we follow the Church when we disagree with her?  First, we have to ask, why do we want to follow the Church in the first place (assuming, of course, that we do)?  I can't answer this question for the rest of you, but only for myself.  I follow the Church because this is where I have met Christ and where, despite the faults of people in the Church, I have seen Christ most evident in my life.  Christ has been evident through the Eucharist; through the Church's teachings and the way they make sense of my life; and through my friends.  I follow the Church because it is the most reasonable thing for me to do.  I follow Christ, and through my experience I know that the Church is one of the primary ways that Christ remains present in the world.  So I follow that. 
 
"The Church is, of course, a diverse organization/institution/people.  We are the Church in a very concrete and real way.  So, who do I follow when I say that I follow the Church?  Honestly, on a daily basis I follow my friends because they are the way that the Church is most present to me.  I have benefitted invaluably when they can explain my life to me better than I can explain it myself.  Through the encounter with my friends, I am continually drawn back to the reality that is in front of me with a new perspective and a greater understanding.  In following my friends, I do so with great humility due to firm belief that the “other” has something to offer.  I may argue and point out areas in which the “other” seems mistaken, and I might not change, but my starting point must be a great openness to change and humility. 
 
"I also follow the Church in a different sense.  I follow her traditions, the Sacraments, that nebulous thing of "the Catholic Intellectual Tradition," and doctrine.  I follow this in much the same way that I follow my friends: with great humility and openness and a belief that the Other has something to offer.  My humility in regards to this aspect of the Church is even greater because it has been around for so long and has hashed out many of the same issues I sit around talking about (virtually or physically) with my friends.  It has worked through many of these issues and questions over its two thousand year history with the aid of many contributing scholars and thinkers.  In addition, I do think the Church is lead by Christ and protected by the Holy Spirit, despite its leadership by us fallen humans. 

 

"In short, I trust the Church.  This doesn't mean I don't question or debate, but my starting point is and, I think, must be a trust that the Church knows more than me.  Sometimes I follow like Peter and the others in John 6.  Jesus says, "Eat my body, drink my blood, and you will not die," and almost everyone says, "This guy is nuts, this guy is crazy, I'm outta here" and they leave.  But Peter and the others, they've been following Jesus for longer, so they stay.  Probably many of them are wondering if they should stay, but they stay, and Jesus asks if they want to leave.  Peter answers for all of them, "Where would we go?"  He doesn't understand what Jesus says any more than those who left, but he has to keep following.  He's seen the evidence.  He can't do anything else, go anywhere else.  It would be unreasonable after all he's seen.  For me, too, it would be unreasonable after all I've seen, so I continue to follow.  Sometimes, like Peter and the others, I don't understand, but I keep following.  For me, this means two things:  Questioning and obeying simultaneously.  I question because I have to, because I want to understand, and I obey, too, because I have to and I want to understand.  I have to keep following Christ and the way that Christ is evident in my life (through the Church), so I obey what the Church says.  Sometimes, I think, only in obeying am I able to understand.  I'm not sure how well I can explain this, but just think about things you only understood abstractly, and then when you start doing them you understand them all the better. 
 
"So, then, back to my original question: how do I follow when I disagree with the Church?  I start with a great humility and ask for openness that I will be able to see what is true.  I talk to those I trust within the Church and "dialogue" with those who have come before me by reading explanations for the Church's position.  Since the Church’s unfolding doctrine has been developed over 2000 years, I think I can give the Church at least a year of trying to understand its position and praying for openness before I really decide I disagree.  Probably, though, this period should last even longer than a year.  If, after all of this, I do disagree, I would come to more concrete dialogue with those people in the Church and, again, ask why and very humbly begin to criticize.  Then, perhaps, I would criticize more loudly and, yes, call for change from within.  But this, too, must always be done with humility and respect, holding myself open to the possibility that I am mistaken."

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Waldron on human equality

Jeremy Waldron has posted his new paper, Basic Equality.  (HT: Solum)  Here's the abstract:

This is a three-part study and defense of the idea of basic human equality. (This is the idea that humans are basically one another's equals, as opposed to more derivative theories of the dimensions in which we ought to be equal or the particular implications that equality might have for public policy.) Part (1) of the paper examines the very idea of basic equality and it tries to elucidate it by considering what an opponent of basic human equality (e.g. a philosophical racist) might hold. It explores the idea of there being no morally significant fundamental divisions among humans (of the kind that some people insist on as between humans and others animals). Part (2) considers whether basic human equality must be based on some descriptive similarity among us (naturalistic or metaphysical); it considers the positions of a number of thinkers who have denied this. Part (3) considers John Rawls's conception of basic equality in terms of range properties. (Being in Ohio is a range property; Columbus and Cincinnati are both equally in Ohio even though even though Columbus is in the center of the state, while Cincinnati is just over the river from Kentucky.) It explores the application of this Rawlsian idea to the descriptive properties that might be thought relevant to human equality. This three part paper is a rather technical philosophical exploration. And it is just a beginning; we need much more work on the idea of basic equality. Some of the energy that has gone into discussions of equality as a policy aim (e.g. in the Dworkin/Sen literature or in the literature surrounding Rawls's Difference Principle) needs to be devoted to this more fundamental conception.

A Law Student Writes

Professor Perry,

I write to you concerning an article you posted on Mirror of Justice by Kate Childs Graham....

I’m wondering if you feel, as I do, that room can easily be made, and should be, for a marriage like Kate and Ariana’s within the Church. Obviously, this would require that the “institutional Catholic Church” (as Childs Graham put it) adopt a change to its definition of marriage. The Catechism in Paragraph 1660 refers to marriage as “an intimate communion of life and love… ordered to the good of the couple, as well as to the generation and education of children.” This, to me, is very broad and seemingly could be opened to couples not consisting of a man and a woman. Even the “generation… of children,” by virtue of modern science, does not require a heterosexual union in order to be effected. Perhaps more to the point, and directly on point with the sentiment of Ms. Childs Graham’s editorial, “From a valid marriage arises a bond between the spouses which by its very nature is perpetual and exclusive; furthermore, in a Christian marriage the spouses are strengthened and, as it were, consecrated for the duties and the dignity of their state by a special sacrament.” (Catechism, Paragraph 1638)

Granted, we are provided a one-sided and biased account, but the relationship between Kate and Ariana exhibits all of the qualities valued by the Church in a marital union, save heterosexuality. What ill can come from such communion based on love and dedication between two people? I know that I am short shrifting the Church’s definition and understanding of “marriage,” but is the position of the modern Catholic Church (emphasis on modern) sustainable on principle? Or, is it as I fear, merely clinging to tradition and a (possibly flawed) interpretation of Old Testament allegory?

I ... often find myself critical of the tradition I grew up in. This is at least one of the reasons I find myself drawn to many of your posts. (The latest by John Kavanaugh is no exception. By the way, I think he puts easier “questions” to the pro-life extremists than those he puts to the pro-choicers.) For all of the good done by the Church, and for the strength and beauty of its tradition, I have a hard time imagining myself returning to weekly mass if the Church does not address what I feel is its immoral treatment of many people within and without of its sanctuaries. The LGBTQ community, Catholics and non-Catholics alike, represents one group that I believe gets such treatment from the Church. The thought-provoking columns in your posts suggest that you may share some of this sentiment. Is there any truth to this, or are you dedicating yourself to making sure that all voices and viewpoints are heard from in the MOJ discussion?

Respectfully,

[a law student]

[I replied, explaining that in my judgment, the Church's teaching on homosexuality is false teaching and that the Church's position on gay and lesbian unions is unjust.]