How do Academicians Become Holier? Renewing Hagiography for the Professional Ethicist

In New Wine, New Wineskins, Christopher Steck, SJ has an article entitled “Saintly Voyeurism: A Methodological Necessity for the Christian Ethicist?” In this essay, Steck notes the lack of attention to the personal qualities and character of the professional ethicist, and argues that contemporary Catholic moral theology should incorporate of his proposed method of “saintly voyeurism” into moral education. “Saintly voyeurism” according to Steck is a return to concrete models of Christian holiness as found in the stories of the saints in order to facilitate a neglected goal for the moral practitioner, namely, their own holiness.

Steck’s concern is that contemporary moral theologians are not sufficiently rooted in and transformed by the Christian story. On an institutional level, Steck complains that that there is insufficient support both from the church and the academy to support the development of catholic ethicists own development of Christian disciples as they practice their trade. He writes,

Achieving such a vision [of Christian discipleship for the professional ethicist] is complicated in the academic culture in which Catholic ethicists practice their trade. That culture is given shape by a constellation of values whose form does not align well with that of the field of Christian ethics, especially insofar as it is concerned with questions of what constitutes the holy life. This misalignment, I argue, is due in part to the dominance of rationalistic and acutely critical modes of contemporary research, along with a lack of concern for the personal moral character of the one engaging in research. . . More though needs to be given too how Catholic moral theologians can ‘form’ themselves into Christian ethicists and address issues of Christian discipleship and the holy life.

In essence, Steck’s concern is that not enough attention is being directed towards making ethicists more ethical, and within a Christian context, more holy. Instead, the virtues of the professional ethicists encouraged in the academy are the virtues which Steck identifies with scientific rationalism. They are

• Agorism: the virtue of argumentation and debate, or the “need to position one’s work in opposition to someone else’s and disprove others’ arguments in order to be original, [to] make a contribution and demonstrate intellectual ability” (28).

• Circumscription: the inclination against universalist or comprehensive claims

• Unmaking: a kind of hermeneutic of suspicion or “belief that truth claims conceal subtle and pernicious advancements of self-interest (whether personal, group, social, or institutional) and unconscious desires of power” (28-9).

Such critique-oriented rationalistic virtues have their advantages in the academy and particularly for scholarly research, but Steck worries that such virtues are not in themselves sufficient for the development of the scholar, and particularly the Catholic ethicist. That is, such virtues encourage intellectual competency but neglect other fundamental parts of the academician’s character. As Steck puts it, “Our ends [as scholars] are not just intellectual ones; they have to do with what brings us emotional well-being, psychological peach, and deep satisfaction about a life lived well” (30).

What we need in the academy, argues Steck, are spiritual practices that nurture a more comprehensive vision of the Christian life for the professional Catholic ethicist. That is, the Catholic academy needs institutionalized ways of encouraging Christian discipleship and Christian holiness among its professional ethicists.

What Steck recommends is a sort of “saintly voyeurism,” or as he describes it, “ethical reflection on the ordinary acts of a holy existence to better understand the demands of Christian discipleship” (36). Concretely, this takes the form of a kind of revised hagiography, a study of the lives and actions of the saints with an eye toward discerning which actions are most consonant with a saintly life. He quotes Richard McCormick who says “that the meaning of Christian discipleship is best gathered from the lives of the saints” (37):

Elizabeth of Hungary’s disobedience of her husband’s wishes in order to serve the poor, Elizabeth Ann Seton’s engagement with religious antagonism of her time, and Ignatius of Loyola’s apostolic choice to minister not only to the poor but to the powerful represent choices that raise interesting ethical issues for those wishing to better understand the saintly life.

Steck does not recommend an exact imitation of the saints, but rather a “casuistry at a distance,” that is, an observation of what sort of actions might be considered saintly in a given situation in order to train the ethicist’s own vision of holiness. This moral tutoring through hagiography can occur in five ways, according to Steck:

1. It can confirm for the ethicist the viability of the Christian vision, and strengthen the ethicist’s commitment to living as a Christian disciple even in the face of great adversity
2. Studying the lives of the saints can reemphasize the theological dimension of the Christian life by emphasizing such features as surrender, obedience, participation in the paschal mystery, and trust in the abiding power of love
3. The saints can offer new paradigms for how Christian discipleship can be lived out in changing historical situations
4. The lives of the saints can offer a context for examining how holiness can break through the trial and limitations of creaturely existence.
5. Finally, the saints challenge us always to respond to the situations we find ourselves in, rather than passively accepting the lot we are given. The saints give us options for our own lives for how to live out a life of holiness.

Steck concludes:

Christian moral theology is not simply a deductive or rationalistic science. It requires that its practitioner have a well-formed heart that is attuned to the Gospel and the values at its core. In an ideal world, Catholic moral theologians would be saints and scholars. However, Catholic ethicists now perform their trade in a context that often does not sustain the kind of Gospel vision associated with a saintly existence. The indifference of the academy toward traditional virtues and the loss of preconciliar spiritual practices within Catholicism leave Catholic moralists more susceptible than moralists of an earlier generation to an almost exclusively secular and narrowly rationalistic formation. . . . Scriptural mediation, prayer, devotional practices, and liturgical participation are just some of the practices that form the Christian into a disciple. But examining the lives of the saints, ordinary people achieving great moral character, is one practice that allows ethicists to practice their art—that is, scholarly reflection on human action—and thus represents a distinctive resource for moralists.

I think Steck is right on the money. I would recommend two developments to his argument. First, I think we need to accept the fact that much of the lives of the saints can be psychologized in today’s rationalistic environment, but that need not deter us from recognizing moments of great holiness or the fact that God has worked throughout history through very flawed individuals. My pet example is St. Catherine of Sienna who allegedly went seven years eating nothing but the Eucharist and occasionally some bitter herbs. Clearly, this part of her life seems psychologically unsound, and for good reason. However, the important point to be gleaned from a study of her life is that God inspired her to do great feats of holiness requiring great courage, like caring for victims of the plague and confronting the pope concerning matters of politics, despite the fact that she was a flawed, psychologically fragile and vulnerable individual. Clearly, a great lesson for us all.

Second, I would encourage Catholics to look beyond the boundaries of Catholicism to identify both historical and contemporary saints that were not necessarily a part of the Catholic faith. Due largely to my husband’s influence, I consider the Christian singer Rich Mullins a great saint. Mullins, inspired by the Christian message and anxious to live a life of Christian witness, gave his profits from his singing career to charity, and dedicated large portions of his life to charitable activities not associated at all with his career, like moving to a Native American reservation to teach the children there about music. When I listen to Rich Mullin’s music, I cannot help but be inspired by the vision of the Christian life he encourages both through his music and the story of his life. Clearly, Rich Mullins can be considered a contemporary saint for Catholics today.

I’m interested for all the professionals or soon-to-be professionals reading this post: (1) what role do the lives of the saints play in your own professional and personal life, and (2) what ways institutionally can you think of that you are encouraged to live a life of holiness within your profession, rather than a life of pure academic achievement?

Should Theologians Get to Preach in Mass?

This summer, I read a great book called New Wine, New Wineskins edited by William Mattison III. Here’s a review of one of the essays by Christopher Vogt who questions whether Catholic theologians should not be given an invitation by the bishop to start preaching during Mass. His essay is entitled, “Finding a Place at the Heart of the Church: On the Vocation of a Lay Theologian.”

In this essay, Christopher Vogt’s main complaint, drawn largely from his own personal experience, is that theologians are not engaging in practices that make them better Christians. The vocation of the theologian has become, he claims, disconnected from the life of the Church. Theologians do lots of things that might in some way be considered for the Church like writing papers, teaching, or presenting at conferences, but such activities are not conducted in the Church. He writes,

There is no venue in which I regularly interact with the people of God as an audience or as a source for my work. There is no mechanism in place for me to be heard by local clergy or my local bishop, nor is there any ongoing practice in place for me to hear the concerns, criticisms, or ideas of pastoral leaders. In the absence of such practices, I am becoming a professional academic but one with only loose, informal connections with the church (48).

Vogt acknowledges that lay theologians might just be encouraged to go to Mass more, to pray the liturgy of the hours, or to attend regular devotions like rosaries or Eucharistic adorations. Such practices, while valuable in their own right, are insufficient for lay theologians who wish to strengthen the connection between their profession work and their life of faith as Christians. What is needed, he argues, is not a replacement for these practices, but an additional practice specifically for the lay theologian to become more connected to the life of the church. The practice he argues for is preaching.

Vogt says that the local bishop should support lay theologians by inviting them to preach during mass. The first reason for this is that it is important for the theologian to have a deep connection to the community of faith in this community’s worship, a connection that is currently missing in the church. Theological reflection is not meant to be undertaken by a neutral observer in a context wholly separate from the life of the church, but rather, theology exists only in and for the church. Allowing lay theologians the opportunity to preach would draw them into a closer relationship with living church, and would thereby strengthen them in their vocation to speak about this living church and the faith that it holds.

Vogt identifies several ways theologians can benefit from an invitation to preach. First, they can talk about theological reflection in a more personal (i.e. “first-person”) way that the academy does not encourage. Vogt complains that theological argumentation, while valuable academically, is not necessarily a practice that strengthens one’s spirituality. Second, preaching gives the opportunity for the lay theologian to become more immersed in the liturgy by following the liturgical calendar and presenting theological reflection on scriptural selections that the theologians may not have chosen for themselves. Third, allowing the lay theologian to preach provides an opportunity for the theologian to understand in a deeper, more profound way, the lives of the people of God who hold the faith.

Vogt also thinks that the church itself will benefit by inviting lay theologians to preach. He notes that many priests give quite bad homilies due to insufficient theological knowledge (think of how bad the homilies frequently are on Trinity Sunday). Other priests might be “morally absent,” meaning that the presiding priest is physically present, and thus able to say mass, but unprepared to preach. And there is also the problem of the priest shortage. The German bishops have already received permission from Rome to allow lay people to preach on a regular and ongoing basis at Sunday liturgy. In the U.S., lay people can lead a Liturgy of the Word when a priest is absent.

Moreover, there is both historical and juridical precedent to allow lay theologians to preach regularly. Pope John Paul II lifted to outright ban on lay preaching in 1983, though the current code prevents lay people from preaching a homily. Vogt claims that the term homily has taken on a legal meaning such that it simply means “preaching by a priest or deacon in the context of the regular liturgy.” He argues that “if a lay person performs the same task of ‘offering a reflection,’ by definition it cannot be a homily, and therefore it can be permitted” (58). He concludes,

Given the lack of a definitive theological closure on this issue, I would humbly suggest that it should be reconsidered whether the current discipline of an absolute prohibition on homiletic preaching by lay people is the best discipline by which to ensure the unity of the Liturgy of the Word and Eucharis and to preserve the theological distinction between ordained priesthood and the universal priesthood of the baptized. . . Regular preaching would be a practice appropriate for theologians because their vocation demands that they serve the church as interpreters of the Word and because preaching would draw on their considerable training in a way that complements their pursuit of teaching and research and leads them to be more pastorally aware (59).

Vogt’s recommendation is bold, provocative, and initially very persuasive. Actually, maybe because I am married to a member of the Church of Christ where lay people, including my husband, preach all the time, I did not think Vogt’s recommendation was that shocking or provocative at first read. Nevertheless, Vogt is right to say that theologians have both a professional and a spiritual vocation to engage in faith seeking critical understanding. The theologian should also definitely have a strong connection with the Christian community. I disapprove highly of theologians and theology students who stop going to mass or church all-together. One cannot be a theologian if they are completely disconnected from the life of the church. That being said, the vocation of a theologian is not an ecclesial vocation. In other words, Christian theologians have a distinct (i.e. different) vocation from priests and bishops.

As important as it is for the theologian to be immersed in the life of the church, it is also important to keep a critical distance between the university and the episcopate. Theologians must be given a certain freedom to think freely, to make provocative inquiries into the nature of the faith, and to challenge the church’s teaching when necessary. It would, however, be very dangerous if ordinary lay people were exposed to the sort of critical inquiry that theologians engage in. The job of the theologian is to critically examine the faith; the church in both the people of God and the magisterial teaching body discerns what should get passed on to the flock.

I think that Vogt has recommended a practice that in some cases could be very good for some churches. There are lay theologians, like ordained theologians, that have been given a gift to preach. In these cases, it should depend on the prudential discernment of the bishop to decide who, where, and under which circumstances a lay theologian should give a sermon during Sunday liturgical services. I think that it is probably wise for canon law for allow for this possibility. But I also think it would be rash to suddenly allow lay theologians to preach in a liturgical role that should be occupied for someone as both a theological authority and a spiritual shepherd.

I have one friend who said that this issue should call us as a church to rethink ordination. That some people are called and given the grace by God to be teachers, preachers, healers, and evangelists, and you should not have to be ordained as a priest to have the church sanction you in your work in any one of these given areas. So there could be a sort of analogous ordination for people to preach, whereby the church “lays hands on” the person and sanctions their work for the good of the church’s body. This could also be one way of addressing the issue of women’s ordination, without saying that women need to be made priests.

Perhaps a more prudent immediate step would be to encourage more communication and hands-on work with priests and theologians. That is, rather than having a theologian give a sermon or homily, theologians could be given roles as theological advisers to parish priests who may have had improper theological education. Of course, this does not solve the problem of the shortage of priests, or the problem of “morally absent” priests, as Vogt calls them. In parishes where this is a problem, it might be a good idea for the bishop to find some trusted theologians to take over, or at least heavily supplement, the preaching responsibilities. Nevertheless, Vogt’s essay encourages us to think about the vocation of the theologian and the relationship of the theological profession and the life of the church.

Baptism: Initiating Christian Unity

I wanted to write a blog post exploring Thomas Aquinas’ treatment of baptism, partially in honor of today’s feast celebrating the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan by John the Baptist, and partially because Thomas treats baptism in the Tertia Pars (third part) of the Summa, which hardly anyone reads.  Moreover, I have been very interested in the possibility of Christian unity recently, maybe because I am a Roman Catholic marrying a member of the Church of Christ, and a good place to start is baptism, which is the sacrament of Christian initiation.

The Sacrament of Baptism

Baptism, Aquinas says, is outward washing which is a sacramental sign of inward justification (III, Q. 66, art. 1).  It was initiated at Christ’s own baptism, because it was at Christ’s baptism that the act of washing received the power to impart grace.  John’s baptism was different because it only pointed at the fulfillment of the meaning of washing, but did not actually confer grace.  John’s baptism simply pointed to Christ, but when Jesus entered the Jordan to be baptized, the  heavens were ripped open and the Holy Spirit descended.

The opening of the heavens has a threefold significance for Aquinas.  First, it shows that heavenly power would sanctify the practice of baptism.  Second, baptism is a practice of faith, and faith is about “heavenly things which surpass the senses and human reason.”  Third, Jesus’ baptism opened up the gates of heaven which had been previously closed through sin.  The opening of the heavens showed that the heavens were now accessible to the baptized.

So baptism is important, but the sacrament alone is  not enough for the believer to gain heaven.  Thomas says, “Now after baptism man needs to pray continually, in order to enter heaven: for though sins are remitted through baptism, there still remain the fomes of sin assailing us from within, and the world and the devils assailing us from without. And therefore it is said pointedly (Luke 3:21) that “Jesus being baptized and praying, heaven was opened”: because, to wit, the faithful after baptism stand in need of prayer” (III, Q. 39, art. 5).

Form, Matter, and Accidents

Like all sacraments, baptism has form and matter.  The form is the essence of baptism, the principle that makes it what it is.  The form points to the principle cause of the sacrament, which is God, and specifically the God Christians know to be triune.  So the form of baptism is the words “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit” which points to the source and purpose and end of baptism–the Trinity.  The matter is how the form is instantiated, and so the matter of baptism is water.  Matter alone is not enough to make a sacrament; the matter becomes something special when enlivened on the form.

There are lots of what Aquinas calls “accidents” attached to baptism.  These are the things that are not essential to the sacrament, though nevertheless important for some reason.  “Accidents do not diversify the essence of the sacrament,” Aquinas says.  This means that there are lots of things that one could do in the act of baptism that might vary, while not changing the essential nature of the act which is still baptism.

One of these accidents is how the water is conferred to the baptized, namely whether the baptized is immersed or sprinkled.  Catholics typically sprinkle water over the head, but they might be surprised that Aquinas thinks sprinkling is acceptable, but immersion is preferred because it more closely represents Christ’s burial and the idea that the baptized dies with Christ.  Thomas identifies a few circumstances where sprinkling would be acceptable.  These include a shortage of water, a huge number of baptismal candidates (we’re talking thousands) which would make immersion cumbersome, and the feebleness  of the candidate whose life might be endangered by immersion.  This last reason is why Catholics sprinkle, because they baptize infants, too small to be heartily dunked.  We’ll come back to this.

Another accident Aquinas addresses is whether the baptized need to be immersed or sprinkled three times.  I had never really thought about this question until the priest doing pre-Cana with my fiancé and me informed us that my fiancé had only been immersed once, which was not consistent with the form of baptism which requires trine immersion or sprinkling.  This meant we had to get a “disparity of cult” dispensation because the Catholic Church did not recognize the validity of his baptism.  Turns out, Aquinas would disagree “since the Trinity can be represented in the three immersions, and the unity of the Godhead in one immersion” (III, Q. 66, art. 8).  Moreover, the matter of washing is an accident, which does not change the validity of the sacrament, only its licitness.  He does say that trine baptism is now universally recognized by the Church, and baptisms conducted otherwise would not be consistent with the ritual of the church, though they would nevertheless remain valid.   As a good Thomist, I don’t think the “disparity of cult” dispensation was appropriate.

What about rebaptism?  Aquinas says that there is only one baptism for the remission of sins.  Here, because so many Christians practice rebaptism, it is worth quoting Aquinas in full.

First, because Baptism is a spiritual regeneration; inasmuch as a man dies to the old life, and begins to lead the new life. Whence it is written (John 3:5): “Unless a man be born again of water and the Holy Ghost, He cannot see [Vulgate: 'enter into'] the kingdom of God.” Now one man can be begotten but once. Wherefore Baptism cannot be reiterated, just as neither can carnal generation. . . Secondly, because “we are baptized in Christ’s death,” by which we die unto sin and rise again unto “newness of life” (cf. Romans 6:3-4). Now “Christ died” but “once” (Romans 6:10). Wherefore neither should Baptism be reiterated. For this reason (Hebrews 6:6) is it said against some who wished to be baptized again: “Crucifying again to themselves the Son of God”; on which the gloss observes: “Christ’s one death hallowed the one Baptism.”  Thirdly, because Baptism imprints a character, which is indelible, and is conferred with a certain consecration. Wherefore, just as other consecrations are not reiterated in the Church, so neither is Baptism. . . Fourthly, because Baptism is conferred principally as a remedy against original sin. Wherefore, just as original sin is not renewed, so neither is Baptism reiterated, for as it is written (Romans 5:18), “as by the offense of one, unto all men to condemnation, so also by the justice of one, unto all men to justification of life.”

Recipients

“Men are bound to that without which they cannot obtain salvation. Now it is manifest that no one can obtain salvation but through Christ; wherefore the Apostle says (Romans 5:18): “As by the offense of one unto all men unto condemnation; so also by the justice of one, unto all men unto justification of life.” But for this end is Baptism conferred on a man, that being regenerated thereby, he may be incorporated in Christ, by becoming His member: wherefore it is written (Galatians 3:27): “As many of you as have been baptized in Christ, have put on Christ.” Consequently it is manifest that all are bound to be baptized: and that without Baptism there is no salvation for men.”

The Christian tradition and the Scriptural witness are clear, as this above quote makes clear, that baptism is an essential part of the Christian faith.  No interior change of heart suffices–you must be baptized.  Doesn’t mean that God can’t save  a person without baptism, but perfect conversion to God belongs to those who are regenerated in Christ, by baptism.  Thomas relies heavily on the example of Christ to back up this point.  If Jesus, who had no sin, saw it fit to be baptized and it was at this event that the heavens opened up to him, so too should we see it fit to be baptized.

What about children?  This seems to me a big sticking point in the practice of baptism between different Christian churches who disapprove of the practice of baptizing infants, as Roman Catholics, Lutherans, and some others do.  Aquinas justifies this practice first with the words of Paul: “For if, by the transgression of one person, death came to reign through that one, how much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and of the gift of justification come to reign in life through the one person Jesus Christ.  In conclusion, just as through one transgression condemnation came upon all, so through one righteous act acquittal and life came to all.”

When Paul says that condemnation came to all, Aquinas takes him to mean everyone, regardless of age.  Infants come into this world marked with the sin of Adam.  Infants come into this world burdened with the punishment for sin, which is death.  Infants come into this world already needing salvation.  And when Paul says that acquittal and life come to all through the one righteous act of Jesus, Aquinas takes him mean that everyone can gain new life through baptism into Christ, regardless of age.  “Our Lord Himself said (John 3:5): “Unless a man be born again of water and the Holy Ghost, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.” Consequently it became necessary to baptize children, that, as in birth they incurred damnation through Adam so in a second birth they might obtain salvation through Christ” (III, Q. 68, art. 9).

More generally, Aquinas thinks that the saving act that happens in baptism is an act of God, not an act of the believer.  Baptism is necessary because human beings on their own cannot achieve salvation, but rely exclusively on God.  In light of this, it makes no sense to Aquinas to say that only believers should be baptized.  Aquinas doesn’t think that we even can believe, apart from grace.  Faith is a gift, not an achievement.  In order to make it more likely, therefore, that children grow up in faith, baptism is necessary.  He says “it was fitting that children should receive Baptism, in order that being reared from childhood in things pertaining to the Christian mode of life, they may the more easily persevere therein; according to Proverbs 22:5: “A young man according to his way, even when he is old, he will not depart from it” (ibid.).  For the same reason, Aquinas thinks that baptism should be offered to the mentally ill, those lacking in reason who cannot make a rational statement of faith.  “The little child is made a believer, not as yet by that faith which depends on the will of the believer, but by the sacrament of faith itself,” which causes the habit of faith” (III, Q. 69, art. 6).

The Effect of Baptism

Baptism takes away sin, both original and actual.  It is the initiation of a new life, a life of faith.  Baptism also frees the believer from the punishment of sin, which is death, because just as we die to Christ, so too do we rise with him.  Baptism also confers grace  and the virtues of faith, hope, and love onto the baptized.  This means that the baptized have a diminished concupiscence (proclivity to sin) so as to no longer be enslaved by sin.  In other words, Aquinas thinks that baptism makes it easier to be good, because baptism unites us into the body of Christ, and so we become part of Christ’s good works.  He writes, “so from their spiritual Head, i.e. Christ, do His members derive spiritual sense consisting in the knowledge Of truth, and spiritual movement which results from the instinct of grace. Hence it is written (John 1:14-16): “We have seen Him . . . full of grace and truth; and of His fullness we all have received.” And it follows from this that the baptized are enlightened by Christ as to the knowledge of truth, and made fruitful by Him with the fruitfulness of good works by the infusion of grace.”

Most importantly, as so many Christians heard in the reading from Mark 1 today, baptism rips open the heavens.  The gates of heaven, once closed to human beings because of sin, are now opened through Christ’s baptism and his passion, death, and resurrection.  This is why it is so clear that baptism is the work of God, not man, because man could never open those gates on his own.  We depend on Christ for our salvation, not our own efforts.  And we accept the great grace of baptism in obedience in order gain the grace necessary to join him in eternal life.  All Christians are called to be baptized, and I see no better place than this sacrament of Christian initiation to lay the foundation for Christian unity.

Catholic Social Ethics and the Economy

This is a modified draft of a talk I am giving this weekend as part of an adult education program on Catholic Social Ethics and the economy.

I. Introduction

“Human dignity can be realized and protected only in community.” This statement, from the 1986 US Bishops Pastoral Letter entitled Economic Justice for All, is foundational for understanding what Catholic social ethics is all about.  Generally, ethics is the systematic study of how to live well in light of the various demands of human existence.  The formulation of rules and principles, the evaluation of consequences, the weighing of responsibilities, and the cultivation of virtues are all included under the rubric of ethics.   The more specific genre of social ethics emerges from the insight that as human beings, we are inherently social creatures and that our ability to live well depends on the quality of the relationships which we maintain.

Economic issues have been a particular concern within Catholic social ethics over the last three decades.  In 1986, the US Catholic bishops promulgated a pastoral letter on Catholic social teaching and the economy entitled “Economic Justice for All.”  This letter has been foundational for a moral analysis of Catholic participation in economic life in its emphasis on the common good and concern for the poor, as well as its insistence that the economy should not be measured just by what it produces, but also according to how it treats human dignity.  This pastoral letter was intended not just to form Catholic consciences, but also to influence economic policies and behaviors on a more institutional level, which is what we are concerned about when we go to vote in November.  We will look at some of the major themes and principles set forth in these documents first, and then we will go on to look at how these principles might inform and guide our own economic decisions.

II. Economic Justice for All

“Economic Justice for All” does not embrace a particular economic theory, but it does turn to Scripture and tradition in order “discover what our economic life must serve, and what standards it must meet” (EJA 12).  The fundamental theme of the pastoral letter “Economic Justice for All” and for Catholic social ethics more generally is that as Christians, we do not measure the economy just according to what it produces but also according to whether it protects or undermines the dignity of the human person.  The economy is not a good in itself, but is judged to be good according to what it does to human beings.  Human dignity can only be fully realized in community, so the economy can be judged further by how it strengthens communities.  More specifically, this means that the economy cannot undermine any groups ability to participate in or contribute to the economy, and it must take special care to support the poorest and most vulnerable in society, such that their most basic needs–life, food, clothing, shelter, medical care, education, employment, and rest–are provided for.  Finally, the economy includes both public and private institutions that work together and have a responsibility to enhance human dignity.  The government is not the sole moral agent in this endeavor, and the bishops recognize the inherent limitations of the government, but also its positive obligations to form just laws and to intervene in the economy when when human dignity is not being upheld.  Voluntary and non-governmental organizations play a vital and indispensable role but cannot replace the just functioning of government.  To sum up the major point of the letter, it is “based on a long tradition of Catholic social thought, rooted in the Bible and developed over the past century by the popes and the Second Vatican Council in response to modern economic conditions. This tradition insists that human dignity, realized in community with others and with the whole of God’s creation is the norm against which every social institution must be measured” (25).

The letter also puts forward certain ethical norms in the form of duties, rights, responsibilities, and virtues.  The first of these is solidarity.  Solidarity is social friendship and civic commitment that makes life in society possible.  Solidarity emerges from one’s sense of dependence on society, and one’s obligations towards it.  Solidarity between various social institutions like the government, corporations, and non-governmental organizations involves a recognition that all of these organizations belong to and benefit from the same society, and as a result, they have a responsibility to work for what is good for that society.  United in this orientation towards the common good, different social organizations will play different roles, but the virtue of solidarity ensures that the goal is the same.  The virtue of solidarity is supported by the principle of subsidiarity.  The principle of subsidiarity says that it is wrong to give a larger association a task that can be accomplished by a smaller organization or an individual.  This principle guarantees institutional pluralism, providing for the creativity and initiative of different social agents with different capacities for action.  The principle of subsidiarity strengthens the virtues of public service and responsible citizenship on all levels of institutional life.

Another important principle emphasized in the letter is the virtue of justice.  There are three different manifestations of justice.  The first is commutative justice which demands that human beings are treated fairly in agreement and exchange.  This includes respect for promises, fairness in contractual agreements, and appropriate compensation for work through just wages.  The second manifestation of justice is distributive justice which demands that the earth’s resources be fairly allocated such that all person’s can have their material needs for food, clothing, and shelter provided for.  Taxation and welfare policies are a matter of distributive justice.  Finally, social justice demands that persons participate in the life of society, and also work for conditions so that those who are excluded from participation may be integrated.  Social justice requires that everybody participate in working for the common good, specifically by organizing economic and social institutions that enable people to participate more fully in building up a just society that respects the fundamental dignity of each individual.  Social justice also demands that we not sit back and wait for the government to solve our social and economic woes, but rather, examine and change when necessary our way of living in light of the needs of the poor, limiting our consumption and expanding our generosity.  Social justice requires this not just on the individual level, but also on the institutional level, making cultural and economic institutions more supportive of the freedom, power, and security of individuals and families.

III. Looking at the Issues

It is not the Church’s job to create or promote a specific political or economic system.  Rather, the Church encourages all reforms that may transform economic arrangements into a fuller realization of the common good, and challenges all practices and institutions that detract from this goal.  Catholic social ethics is useful in its provision of the principles that we have just laid out that allow us to evaluate a particular economic system or policy whereby we ask “what is the impact of this system on people and does it support or threaten human dignity.”

Right now in the United States, we are potentially facing a grave and complex economic situation that will have vast repercussions throughout the economy.  Catholic social ethics does not provide the resources to solve the current economic problems, but it does provide resources for evaluating how to move forward as individuals, as organizations, and as a nation with prudence and justice.

Human Dignity: First of all, it is important to realize that our current economic situation will potentially have a large human impact.  Families have already and are continuing to lose their homes.  Small businesses are unable to get the credit they need to conduct their affairs.  People are losing their jobs and their savings.  Economic arrangements must have as their primary purpose the protection of human dignity.  Any government-level solution that does not provide for those hardest hit by the economic crisis is inadequate.   Citizens often feel far-removed from the political process, but I would recommend writing and calling legislators, writing letters to the newspaper, and taking other initiatives to inform legislators and voters that the primary goal of any proposed legislation must be the protection of human dignity, especially of the poorest and most vulnerable.

Responsibility and Accountability: The reason that we have seen so many banks in recent weeks collapse, gravely endangering our economy, is due to the irresponsible and reckless behavior of both private investors and government.  The sub-prime mortgage industry was fueled by some good intentions to provide homes for the poor and some imprudent legislation that made this goal a reality but also encouraged irresponsible lending practices.  It was also fueled by the greedy exploitation of many vulnerable people, as seen in the manipulative lending practices of certain banks.  Regardless, business people who took unnecessary risks or engaged in such exploitative behavior should not be rewarded or allowed to avoid taking responsibility for their actions, and any legislation put forward should take special care not provide benefits to the wealthiest individuals while neglecting the poorest.   Additionally, any financial assistance legislation should be accompanied by reforms promoting transparency and accountability for both business people and the government officials who form such legislation.  I am also highly critical of the way government officials have conducted themselves in recent years, despite warnings that the economy was in danger, and the recent failure to draft a bill that could get through the House, despite bi-partisan efforts to do so, clearly indicate that the government does not have a good idea of how to move forward.  It would be irresponsible and imprudent to give too much power to the government at this time.  This includes handing our Secretary of the Treasury a check for hundreds of billions of dollars when he has admitted that he does not know if it will work to fix our economic problems.  The call for responsibility and accountability must extend to government officials as well, and Catholic voters should be wary of giving too much power to the government without ensuring that this power will be well-used to promote the common good.

Organization and Subsidiarity: The social ethics tradition of the Church strongly emphasizes the right to organize, which is often taken to mean the right to form labor unions, but organizing also extends to forming social organizations like Catholic Charities and the Catholic Worker Movement.  This goes hand in hand with the principle of subsidiarity.  Again, this principle says that all levels of societal organization have a responsibility to participate in work for the common good, and that the power of individuals and small organizations to provide for a need in society should not be taken away and given to a larger organization like the government.  More practically for our current economic situation, this means that Catholics have a responsibility to work within already-existing organizations like Neighborworks America and to form new organizations where necessary to come to the aid of people in need.  This includes providing shelter for the homeless, and financial support for those in danger of losing their homes.   The Catholic Church has a wonderful history of providing for the needy, especially in this country, rather than relying solely on the government.  We must, as Catholics and as disciples of Christ, take the initiative, make the sacrifices, and innovatively persevere in continuing this tradition of social justice.  At a time like the present, when there is so much uncertainty about what is prudential on a large scale, Catholics are called to even more responsibility on a small scale.  I am much more interested in what Catholics are doing to help the poor and homeless in their own community than I am in hearing how they are voting.

Again, the Church does not affirm one specific economic or political theory, nor does she have the technical resources to put forward a specific legislative solution.  Some may think that the most vulnerable in society can be protected by keeping taxes low for business to provide jobs and stimulate the economy.  Others may think that raising taxes, especially for those in the highest income bracket, would best serve the country’s economic needs at this time (although both Obama and McCain support cutting taxes for the middle class).  There are different possible solutions to our current economic woes, but Catholic social ethics teaches that there are some things that are clearly not allowed, and some things that are clearly required.  As Catholics, we are called in this election season and at all seasons to examine our own actions, the actions of the businesses and organizations that we participate in, and the actions of our government and ask “How is this protecting human dignity and advancing the common good?”

When Life Begins: Distinguishing Between Faith and Reason

It may be imprudent to post a blog on the Democratic position on abortion, but after listening to a podcast from Joe Biden’s September 7 appearance on Meet the Press, I can’t help but make a few contributions from the perspective of theological ethics. Tom Brokaw asked Sen. Biden a similar question to the one he had posited two weeks before to Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi regarding when human life begins. This has become a more hotly-debated political issue in the wake of Barack Obama’s highly publicized interview with Pastor Rick Warren at the Saddleback Church in California, during which Obama claimed that answering the question of “when human rights began” either from a theological or a scientific perspective was above his pay grade. Pelosi’s opinion on the beginning of life, as a Roman Catholic, was more developed:

As an ardent, practicing Catholic, this is an issue that I have studied for a long time. And what I know is, over the centuries, the doctors of the church have not been able to make that definition. St. Augustine said at three months. We don’t know. . . I don’t think anybody can tell you when life begins.

When Brokaw pressed her to respond specifically to the current Roman Catholic position that life begins at conception, Pelosi responded that this position had emerged within the last fifty years or so and again emphasized that “over the history of the church, this is an issue of controversy. But it is also true that God has given us, each of us, a free will and a responsibility to answer for our actions.”

Biden’s answer differed from Pelosi’s and it is worth quoting in full:

Look, I know when it [life] begins for me. It’s a personal and private issue. For me, as a Roman Catholic, I’m prepared to accept the teachings of my church. But let me tell you. There are an awful lot of people of great confessional faiths–Protestants, Jews, Muslims and others–who have a different view. They believe in God as strongly as I do. They’re intensely as religious as I am religious. They believe in their faith and they believe in human life, and they have differing views as to when life–I’m prepared as a matter of faith to accept that life begins at the moment of conception. But that is my judgment. For me to impose that judgment on everyone else who is equally and maybe even more devout than I am seems to me is inappropriate in a pluralistic society. And I know you get the push back, “Well, what about fascism?” Everybody, you know, you going to say fascism’s all right? Fascism isn’t a matter of faith. No decent religious person thinks fascism is a good idea.

First of all, Obama is right in his statement that determining when human rights begins is above his pay grade. Debating human rights is a job for philosophers and theologians. Applying the conclusion of those debates to public policy is a job for politicians.

Regarding Pelosi, she is also right on a number of things. The Roman Catholic Church has not always held the position that life begins at conception, as it does now. Augustine did not know when life began. He took on the topic as a theological matter, specifically regarding resurrection. Would an unformed fetus be resurrected? He did not have a clear answer to the question. Either the unformed fetus would perish like a seed, or God may apply what was lacking in the fetus and raise it up on the last day:

Abortions, even supposing they were alive in the womb, did also die there shall rise again, I make bold neither to affirm nor to deny although I fail to see why, if they are not excluded from the number of the dead, they should not attain to the resurrection of the dead. For either all the dead shall not rise, and there will be to all eternity some souls without bodies, though they once had them—only in their mother’s womb, indeed; r if all human souls shall receive again the bodies which they had wherever they lived, and which they left when they died, then I do not see how I can say that even those who died in their mother’s womb shall have no resurrection (The City of God, Book XXII, 13).

In an earlier work, likely the one that Pelosi was referring to, called “On Exodus,” Augustine argued that early abortions procured before “ensoulment” were not equivalent with homicide: “…the law does not provide that the act [abortion] pertains to homicide, for there cannot yet be said to be a live soul in a body that lacks sensation…” (“On Exodus” 21.22). This passage refers to the idea of “delayed hominization” which Augustine adopted from the Rabbinic and Greek tradition. According to this idea, the soul was infused into the fetus forty days after conception for males and eighty days after conception for females. The basic rationale was that the fetus was formed by a mixing of the menstrual fluid and the semen producing after a period of time a “formed” fetus. Aquinas also held this position of delayed hominization, but to cite him as an authority is a little misleading considering how rare his remarks about abortion and ensoulment are. In the entire Summa Theologica, Aquinas mentions abortion only once, under the heading of “Murder.” In Q. 64, art. 8, ad. 2, Aquinas writes: “He that strikes a woman with child does something unlawful: wherefore if there results the death either of the woman or of the animated fetus, he will not be excused from homicide, especially seeing that death is the natural result of such a blow.”

Where Pelosi is mistaken is identifying these early conceptions of “hominization” and “ensoulment” with the contemporary debate about the morality of abortion. Augustine, Aquinas, and indeed every major authority in the early and Medieval Church held that abortion was a sin, although they differed in the severity of the consequences of such a sin depending on the circumstances of the abortion (before ensoulment, for example). Here are a few examples of early authorities on the topic of abortion:

• The second commandment of the teaching: You shall not murder. You shall not commit adultery. You shall not seduce boys. You shall not commit fornication. You shall not steal. You shall not practice magic. You shall not use potions. You shall not procure [an] abortion, nor destroy a newborn child (Didache 2:1–2 [A.D. 70]).
• Thou shalt not slay the child by procuring abortion; nor, again, shalt thou destroy it after it is born” (Letter of Barnabas 19 [A.D. 74]).
• In our case, a murder being once for all forbidden, we may not destroy even the fetus in the womb, while as yet the human being derives blood from the other parts of the body for its sustenance. To hinder a birth is merely a speedier man-killing; nor does it matter whether you take away a life that is born, or destroy one that is coming to birth. That is a man which is going to be one; you have the fruit already in its seed (Tertullian Apology 9:8 [A.D. 197]).
• He that kills another with a sword, or hurls an axe at his own wife and kills her, is guilty of willful murder; not he who throws a stone at a dog, and unintentionally kills a man, or who corrects one with a rod, or scourge, in order to reform him, or who kills a man in his own defense, when he only designed to hurt him. But the man, or woman, is a murderer that gives a philtrum, if the man that takes it dies upon it; so are they who take medicines to procure abortion; and so are they who kill on the highway, and rapparees (Basil the Great, First Canonical Letter, canon 8 [A.D. 374])
• I cannot bring myself to speak of the many virgins who daily fall and are lost to the bosom of the Church, their mother. . . . Some go so far as to take potions, that they may insure barrenness, and thus murder human beings almost before their conception. Some, when they find themselves with child through their sin, use drugs to procure abortion, and when, as often happens, they die with their offspring, they enter the lower world laden with the guilt not only of adultery against Christ but also of suicide and child murder (Jerome, Letters 22:13 [A.D. 396]).

In the early and Medieval church, the issue was not whether or not abortion was a sin, but rather, whether it was equivalent to homicide, one of the gravest sins. There were developments in the modern period on this question in light of embryological studies that revealed how conception and fetal development occurred. With the knowledge that conception marked the beginning of a new and distinct life (with its own chromosomal arrangement distinct from the mother and father) and not a gradual process of “hominization” through the mixing of menstrual and seminal fluid, Catholic moralists began to advance a position that abortion at any stage was homicide.

What Nancy Pelosi and Joe Biden fail to recognize is that the position that life begins at conception is most definitely not a matter of faith in Catholic morality. Thomas Aquinas wrote extensively on the relationship between faith and reason as two orders of knowledge. Faith is an order of knowledge which has as its object the revealed truths as manifested in Scripture and tradition. Accepting that God is one God in three persons is a matter of faith. Accepting that God became incarnate in the person of Jesus Christ is a matter of faith. Accepting that the earth goes around the sun is not a matter of faith. This type of knowledge belongs to the order of natural reason, and has as its object the empirical world which can be grasped with the human mind.

It is fallacious to call the position that life begins at conception a matter of faith. The Catholic Church did not get this position from revelation—that is, from Scripture or Tradition. One does not have to be a Roman Catholic specifically or a Christian in general or any other type of believer to know that life begins at conception. Rather, the Church has appropriated this fact from the scientific community into her moral teaching in order to better articulate how the commandment “thou shalt not kill” should be fulfilled. But the position is based on empirical, not philosophical nor theological arguments. Answering when human life begins belongs to the field of natural science.

Obama told Rick Warren that he could not discern when human rights begin “from a scientific perspective,” he was absolutely right, but neither can anybody else. The question of human rights is a philosophical and theological matter, as distinct from the natural sciences. There are rational, philosophical arguments in favor of human rights, including human rights for the unborn, that do not depend on revelation or any religious belief. The 1948 United Nations Universal Declaration on Human Rights relies on such philosophical foundations for its human rights arguments. There are also theological arguments for human rights that refer to the human soul, the imago Dei, the “sinfulness” of murder, and divinely-granted human dignity that do, in fact, depend on revelation. But the point that I am trying to make is that the Catholic position that life begins at conception is not revealed knowledge, nor does the Church say that this position should be accepted on faith as a personal and private matter, as Joe Biden argues. Rather, the Roman Catholic position on abortion argues that scientific evidence indicates that human life begins at conception, and then uses philosophical and theological arguments to articulate why all life, including life in the womb, should be protected. It is important that dissenting Roman Catholic politicians distinguish what the Church is asking them to accept on reason, and what they are being asked to accept on faith.