Archive for the ‘Discipleship’ Category

Saints and Public Figures

Wednesday, June 22nd, 2011

On this day in 1535, John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester in England and newly-created Cardinal, was judicially murdered by the government of England.  His offense?  He defended the validity of marriage, and the authority of the Church to determine what marriage means.

Today we celebrate his feast day, on an ominous day for marriage and the liberty of the Church here in New York.

John Fisher defended the marriage of Queen Catherine to the tyrant King Henry VIII, who wished to have that union dissolved by the Church.  When the Church refused, Henry persecuted and murdered all those who stood for the validity of the marriage, and for the authority of the Church.  John Fisher stood alone among the English episcopacy — every single other bishop sided with the King and against the Holy See.  Other prominent Englishmen also took the side of the marriage and the Church, and paid the price — most notably, of course, the great St. Thomas More.  St. Thomas, and many other English martyrs for the meaning of marriage and the liberty of the Church, share this feast day, and we humbly pray for their intercession.

As we recall the memory of these great witnesses for the truth, powerful men are in Albany redefining marriage, and threatening the liberty of the Church.  They sit behind closed doors, making a mockery of democracy with secret political deals, not disclosing to the public the language of the bill they will soon foist upon us.  That bill will certainly threaten the liberty of the Church to fulfill her apostolic mission, even as it redefines the family and the nature of every marriage.

A few people stand in their way.  A few brave legislators have resisted the inducements, threats and pressures, and are defending the truth.  Ordinary people of all faiths have sacrificed to go to Albany to give witness to their belief in the sanctity of authentic marriage, and to their fears of religious persecution.  They were met with derisory anti-religious chants.

St. John Fisher and the other English martyrs gave their lives to testify to the divine institution of marriage, and to defend the freedom of the Church established by Christ Himself.

Perhaps some people in Albany will receive special graces today, thanks to their intercession.

St. John Fisher, St. Thomas More, all you English Martyrs, please pray for them, and for us.

Bold Witnesses to the Faith

Monday, June 13th, 2011

(On Saturday, June 11, I was honored to be invited to deliver the commencement address at the annual graduation ceremony of the Montfort Academy.  Montfort is a wonderful high school dedicated to classical Catholic education, and to fostering the intellectual and spiritual growth of their students.  I’ve been pleased to visit the school on a number of occasions for debates and other presentations, and I was thrilled to participate in the festivities.  Below is the text of my address.)

I would like to thank the faculty and staff of the Montfort Academy for inviting me to speak to the graduating class today.  It is an honor to be able to participate in this great enterprise of Catholic education, although in such a small way.

We all know that high school graduation is a significant milestone in our lives.  We tend to look at it as the dawn of adulthood.  No matter how old we are, we probably remember our own graduation very clearly, and fondly.  I certainly do.

But it also marks a significant milestone in another respect — in the call to be witnesses to our faith.  No matter where we are heading — to college, to the work world, or wherever — one thing remains true about us throughout our lives.  We are all called upon to testify to Jesus Christ.  While we do this first and foremost in our family and our home, it goes far beyond that, into a world that needs to hear a message of hope and love that only the Gospel can provide.

Being a witness requires that we step out into the public square, into the struggle to define our culture and our laws, to determine what kind of people we are, and how we are to live together.  This public square appears in many places — in college, the workplace, the state legislature, the voting booth, our parishes, and our own homes.  It exists everywhere that we confront the world.

And there is no doubt that the world is not very welcoming to our testimony.  Threats to religious liberties, open hostility and contempt towards religion in our media and entertainment, bloody persecutions abroad and not-so-bloody persecutions here at home, threats to human life at the beginning and end and every point in between, threats to the sanctity of marriage, and even threats to the very meaning of what it is to be a man and what it means to be a woman.  Anyone who reads the news is well aware of this.  Powerful forces in our culture would much prefer if we would sit down and shut up.  Or at least wear the modern equivalent of a yellow star, to mark our status as social outcasts.

In the face of such hostility, the worst mistake we could make would be to withdraw into our own little community and write off the world and our culture.  I have a friend who attended a graduation ceremony at an ostensibly Catholic college, and one of the speakers began by apologizing for bringing up religious faith.  No. That’s a response of despair and defeat.  We don’t apologize for our faith.  That’s not who we are as Christians.  This is a time for heroic efforts, great deeds, ambitious enterprises, boldly proclaiming the Kingdom of God.

So, what does this mean for us?  Let me offer a few thoughts.

First, we should take seriously St. Peter’s admonition that we should “Always be prepared to make a defense to anyone who calls you to account for the hope that is in you, yet do it with gentleness and reverence” (1 Pet 3:15).  As soon as you step out into the public square you will be challenged.  When people find out that you are a Catholic, much less a Christian, you will be the target of questions, comments, attacks.  You’ll be asked questions by your co-workers, clients, and even people on the bus or train.  Be ready for this.  It’s a wonderful time to “speak the truth with love”, and to offer the world the hope that it longs for.

A pearl of great price has been handed on to us, and we should never be afraid to pass it along to others.  Remember, just like the early Apostles, we have a very radical goal — as the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council said, our task is to “penetrate the world with a Christian spirit” and to “sanctify the world”.  The early Apostles — the early witnesses — understood this very well.  We will never accomplish our ultimate goal unless we stand up as Christians, and testify to the Gospel.  We should never check our faith at the door, before we enter the public square.

Of course, the most important thing that we can do as witnesses to our faith is to dedicate ourselves to becoming better Christians. Before we can purify the world, we must purify ourselves.  We have to remember that our lives are always part of the argument, and that the personal example of ourselves or our fellow Christians will be used to promote — or discredit — our cause.  I am sure you learned in your logic classes that the “ad hominem” argument is a form of logical fallacy.  That means nothing in our culture, where the ad hominem is used first, foremost, and frequently.  Being reminded of our own shortcomings, and those of our fellow Christians, can be a very humbling experience.  Be ready for this.  Or, even better, be immune to it, by living a life of virtue.

Although the way we live this out may be very varied, depending on the field we enter, the one common theme is always love — the gift of self to others.  That is the hallmark of Christians.  In the third century, the theologian Tertullian noticed that the world recognized Christians by saying to themselves, “Look at these Christians, see how they love one another”.  We have to be ready to conquer the world with love, even if the world rejects the very concept of authentic love.  We have to be witnesses of love.

The gift of self has consequences for us.  We grow as persons, we find parts of ourselves that we never knew existed, and we become the person that God intended us to be.  It has life-changing consequences.

For the last twenty years, Peggy and I, together with our kids, have been going to West Virginia to do apostolic work.  The primary work has been to repair homes, run activity camps and tutoring programs for kids, and visiting the homebound and elderly. The main goal is not just to patch a roof, or fix a floor. The real goal is to be with the people, to sit and share their lives, and to share their suffering. We have a chance to encounter Christ crucified, in our midst, in the suffering of the poor.  It has changed us forever — we will never be the same.  Love has a way of doing that.  You know this from your own experiences already.

Your time of training at the Montfort Academy has prepared you well to be witnesses, and you have already shown the kind of character that is needed for this task.  The classical Catholic education you received here, rooted in both faith and reason, provides an excellent foundation for witnessing to the faith.  Your perseverance and loyalty to the school is admirable and, if I may say so, inspiring to me.  There are many others who have been in the arena, fighting the good fight for much longer than I.  We find it very encouraging that there are young people like you who are coming along, and preparing yourselves to take part in this effort.

I think it is particularly appropriate that we are gathered here today on the feast day of St. Barnabas, on the eve of Pentecost.  He was one of the great early disciples, a man who gave up all that he had to serve God by spreading the Gospel.  He knew what it meant to be a witness, and ultimately he paid the price for it.  But he never hesitated, never faltered.  He was lifted up by the Holy Spirit to a heroic mission.  As the Lord said, he “set out into the deep”.

You are in now setting out on the same mission.  The world is in crisis.  It is always in crisis.  Now is the time to be bold, and courageous, like the first Apostles, like Barnabas.  Those who are weak and powerless and hopeless need somebody to stand up for them, to work with them, to serve them.  The Holy Spirit is at our side, making us eager, and joyful, to step out of the safety of the upper room, stand before the world, and give witness to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Now is the time for you to be heroes, now is the time for you to be saints.  Now is the time for you to be witnesses.

Congratulations and God bless.

Deeper Causes and Responses

Thursday, May 19th, 2011

Previously, I posted about the new John Jay College report on the causes and context of the Church’s clerical sex abuse crisis.  I noted some of the important and valuable lessons from the report, which we here in the Archdiocese have already been acting upon.  On the whole, I believe that this report is a positive step forward for child protection in the Church and beyond.

However, I have to confess that I’m a bit dissatisfied about what this report — and, in fact, virtually every other report I’ve seen on the crisis — has failed to talk about.  These kinds of studies are conducted by social scientists, and they naturally tend to look at the problem of child sexual abuse as if it’s a pragmatic issue that can be solved by practical measures like more education, safe environment programs, talk about boundaries, etc.  All of those things are crucial, and go a long way to preventing further abuses.

The report seems to be based on an assumption that prevention is the best deterrent to crime.  That’s certainly true, up to a point, but in the final analysis it isn’t sufficient in this situation.  Prevention efforts and proper responses are necessary — largely because they were inadequate in the past, and that contributed to the problem (and in many cases caused further harm to victims).

But we’re missing a crucial point if we fail to understand that the fundamental challenge is spiritual — a struggle against the inclination to sin that rests in the human heart.  In the final analysis, it’s not prevention, but conversion that is the best deterrent to sin — the way to avoid sin is to turn to God to be liberated from the sin in our hearts.

A point of decision is reached in every single case of sexual abuse — a moment at which the abuser chooses to sin, and thereby to do grievous harm to another in order to satisfy their own disordered desires.  We as a Church have a special expertise and an obligation to talk about that decision and what led up to it in spiritual terms — speaking openly of sin, virtue, and spiritual battle, and not just using secular psychological/social science concepts and language.

Back in 2004, the National Review Board, established by the Bishops to oversee the implementation of the Bishops Charter for the Protection of Children and Young People, issued a report on the crisis.  In a very insightful part of that report, the Panel stated that “the over-riding paradigm that characterizes the crisis is one of sinfulness”.  They went on to say,

The only way to combat sinfulness is with holiness. This is not a public relations battle for the approval of the press or the loyalty of the laity. It is, fundamentally, the age-old issue of good and evil. The Church must be holy; her ministers must be holy; her people must be holy. The foundation of holiness is a strong spiritual life, a life of prayer and simplicity. Priests who were truly holy would not have abused young people; nor would they have allowed others to do so.

No prevention strategy can succeed unless we stress this point.  Our seminary formation program, and all our education programs for laity, must be dedicated to helping people develop the essential virtues — chastity, temperance, fortitude, and prudence.  We must devote our energies tirelessly to fostering holiness.  Ultimately, only in the union of virtue and vigilance can we expect to provide a truly safe environment for the children entrusted to our care.

That is what we are irrevocably committed to.

Mary and Her Knights

Monday, May 16th, 2011

Last Tuesday, I had the privilege of attending the annual Knights of Columbus Prayer Rally in Albany.   Knights, their families and friends came from around the state to give public witness to our Catholic faith, and to call on our elected officials to defend life and the family.

Many groups come to Albany during the legislative session to lobby their Assembly and Senate representatives.  Virtually every day, you can see people from a wide variety of organizations and interest groups, patrolling the halls of the Capitol, and speaking to the elected officials.  That’s the regular course of business in Albany.

The Knights’ rally, though, is fundamentally different.

Yes, it’s about public policy.  We heard speeches about issues of grave concern to Catholics and to the common good, particularly about abortion and same-sex “marriage”.  I even said a few words to the crowd about the dangers to religious liberty that would come from redefining marriage. A number of Assembly representatives and Senators spoke, and the crowd responded enthusiastically.  Again, that’s pretty typical for Albany.

What makes this rally stand out though, is the most important item on the agenda for the day — prayer.  The entire rally was centered on the public communal recitation of the Rosary.  Yes, public prayer, not just public advocacy.  That makes all the difference.

Mary holds a special place in the heart of a Knight.  We truly look upon her as Our Lady.  Much as the knights of old were invested with their war gear, in a similar way we look upon Mary’s Rosary as our weapon of spiritual warfare.  Ask a Knight of Columbus, and chances are pretty good that he’s armed with a Rosary in his pocket, and he knows how to use it.

My favorite part of the rally is the devout hush that descend on the assembly when the time for speeches has ended and the time for prayer has come.  Further conversations are halted, or are muted.  Passersby stare in curiosity, perhaps in disbelief, but with respect.  All those present have lifted their hearts and minds to God, through the intercession of our Mother.  The fervent prayers echo in the cavern created by the surrounding state office buildings — giving witness to our faith, and, in a sense, sanctifying the halls of secular authority.

We gathered together in a place of power to give courageous witness to the power of faith, and to proclaim that all public activism by Christians must be rooted in prayer.  We came to do what the Lord commanded us, through the prophet Micah:

“Arise, plead your case before the mountains, and let the hills hear your voice.” (Mic 6:1)

Heeding that command, Mary’s Knights came to Albany, offered our prayers to God through her never-failing intercession, and were confident that our prayers were heard.

What Do I Desire?

Wednesday, April 27th, 2011

In his homily on Holy Thursday, Pope Benedict made this striking statement:

“I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer” (Lk 22:15). With these words Jesus began the celebration of his final meal and the institution of the Holy Eucharist. Jesus approached that hour with eager desire. In his heart he awaited the moment when he would give himself to his own under the appearance of bread and wine… Jesus desires us, he awaits us. But what about ourselves? Do we really desire him? Are we anxious to meet him? Do we desire to encounter him, to become one with him, to receive the gifts he offers us in the Holy Eucharist? Or are we indifferent, distracted, busy about other things?

It never ceases to amaze me how the Holy Father manages to see right into my soul.  The questions he asked on Holy Thursday are some of the most difficult for me to face.

So often, when I attend Mass, my mind is a million miles away.  I am very easily distracted, so I try to follow the Mass very closely in a missal, so that my mind can be focused better.  But invariably, I find that I’m wandering in my mind, off to matters of work, or personal problems, or some other nonsense.

Even worse, I find that when I approach the Lord for Communion, all too often I don’t appreciate what’s really going on.  He has come to meet me, to make me one with him, and I just don’t get it.

Sometimes, though, the Lord manages to get his message across to me.  Some time ago, I was sitting before the Blessed Sacrament and praying.  All of a sudden, I felt a strong desire in my heart for the Lord.  It was almost like the feeling of love I have for my wife.  It lasted only for a moment, but I realized how important a gift it was.  “So that’s it,” I said to myself.  For once, I got it.  Now, if only I could get it more often.

Pope Benedict closed his homily with a humble prayer, one that should be mine as well:

“I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you”. Lord, you desire us, you desire me. You eagerly desire to share yourself with us in the Holy Eucharist, to be one with us. Lord, awaken in us the desire for you. Strengthen us in unity with you and with one another. Grant unity to your Church, so that the world may believe. Amen.

For

Friday, April 15th, 2011

Part of my Lenten journey this year has been to travel in the company of Pope Benedict –  I set out to read through his latest work, Jesus of Nazareth, Part Two.

In so many ways, it is an astonishing book.  The Holy Father sees our faith on so many different levels, and has a gift in being able to explain it clearly and compellingly.  Every few pages there is a fresh insight that causes me to stop and pause to digest it.  Pope Benedict has been an excellent companion to me this Lent.

One of the most startling passages in the book came amidst his discussion of the Last Supper.  First, a little background.  There has been a long-standing controversy about the words of Consecration in the current English translation of the Roman Rite.  The prayer over the chalice in Latin says that the Lord’s blood was shed “pro multis”, which is the same phrase used in Matthew’s and Mark’s Gospels (in Luke and First Corinthians, the phrase attributed to the Lord is “for you”).  That phrase means, literally, “for many”.  In the current English translation, the phrase “pro multis” is  rendered as “for all”.  In the new translation, which we will begin to use this Advent, the phrase “pro multis” is correctly translated as “for many”.

Pope Benedict unpacks what he calls the “extraordinary theological depth” of the words of the Lord over the chaliceThere is a   This is all very interesting, and I found it both illuminating and enriching.

But what was arresting to me in that discussion had nothing to do with the theological depth of the words “all” or “many”.  Instead, it was the startling things that Pope Benedict wrote about the humble word “for”:

Recent theology has rightly underlined the use of the word “for” in all four accounts [of the institution of the Eucharist], a word that may be considered the key not only to the Last Supper accounts, but to the figure of Jesus overall.  His entire being is expressed by the word “pro-existence” — he is there, not for himself, but for others.  This is not merely a dimension of his existence, but its innermost essence and its entirety.  His very being is a “being-for”.  If we are able to grasp this, then we have truly come close to the mystery of Jesus, and we have understood what discipleship is.

All that, from a simple preposition.

A Witness to Hope

Friday, February 25th, 2011

Earlier this week, Dr. Bernard Nathanson passed away and entered into eternal life.  Archbishop Dolan will celebrate his funeral Mass on Monday at St. Patrick’s Cathedral.

In the earlier part of his life, Dr. Nathanson was a leader of the movement to legalize and normalize abortion in American life.  He crafted public arguments — which he later admitted were rooted in falsehood — to justify the changing of laws and morals on abortion.  And he personally performed thousands of abortions himself.

If that were all we could say about his life, it would be odd indeed to be celebrating a funeral Mass for him at our Cathedral.   But that was not all.

Soon after he had accomplished his aims — the legalization of abortion in America — Dr. Nathanson began a remarkable personal and spiritual journey, which he recounted in his autobiography, The Hand of God.

Confronted by the images he saw on fetal sonograms, he became convinced of the humanity of the unborn child and rejected the practice and ideology of abortion.  He became an outspoken pro-life advocate — a most famous and powerful convert to the cause of human life.  He tirelessly denounced the deceptions at the heart of the abortion business, and deeply regretted his role in advancing it. He himself said, “I am one of those who helped usher in this barbaric age.”  He was deeply oppressed by his complicity in the great evil of abortion, and steered close to despair from the burden of his sins.  Despite this, he continued to resist turning to God for help.

Attending pro-life protests in the late 1980′s, Dr. Nathanson was confronted with something he did not expect.  As he described in his autobiography, he was stunned by the sense of love exhibited by the pro-life protestors.  They sang hymns and offered prayers for the unborn children, the mothers, and the clinic workers, their faces filled with joy.  Their witness of selfless love touched Dr. Nathanson at his core, and he began a new stage of his journey.

He “began to entertain seriously the notion of God — a god who problematically had led me through the proverbial circles of hell, only to show me the way to redemption and mercy through His grace”.  These thoughts about God, “held out a shimmering sliver of Hope to me, in the growing belief that Someone had died for my sins and my evil two millennia ago.”

This was the true turning point of his life — the beginning of his genuine conversion.

Eventually, he was baptized by Cardinal O’Connor in St. Patrick’s Cathedral in 1996 on the feast of the Immaculate Conception, surrounded by pro-life co-workers and friends.  All his sins were washed away in the water of life, and he was re-born anew in the Holy Spirit.  Strengthened by that grace, he continued his ardent pro-life advocacy for the remainder of his life.  He was a leader of the movement, and a mentor and friend to many.  He will be deeply missed.

But, in a larger sense, Dr. Nathanson is an important witness to something that all of us must hold close to our hearts — the virtue of hope.  It would have been easy for an outside observer to give up on him when he was still active in the abortion business, and to despair of any chance of his conversion.  We in the pro-life movement frequently feel this way about others among us — like health professionals who perform or assist in abortions, and public figures who support it.

But we must never give up, because God never gives up on anyone — His grace is indefatigable.  Dr. Bernard Nathanson is a shining example of our hope in the great and inexhaustible mercy of God.

In the famous story of the Prodigal Son, Our Lord told us of the loving, merciful father, who never fails to forgive those who return to him.  When his wastrel son finally came to his senses, rejected his sins, and returned to ask for forgiveness, “his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him.” (Lk 15:20).

Let us all pray in hope that Dr. Bernard Nathanson, having now returned home, will be received with compassion and enfolded in the loving embrace and kiss of his merciful Father.

A Response to Objections

Sunday, February 13th, 2011

In my last blog post, I discussed the morality of the undercover operations of Live Action, the pro-life group, directed against Planned Parenthood. In that post, I cited an article by philosopher Christopher Tollefsen, in which he concluded that the undercover initiative, since it involves lying to the Planned Parenthood staff, is immoral.

Other Catholic theologians have responded to this, seeking ways to justify what Live Action has done.  This has generally fallen into several kinds of approaches.

One response has involved defining “lying” in a way so that Live Action does not fall under the prohibition.   So, for example, they will argue that it is not a lie to speak falsely to someone who does not have a right to the truth.  The example of this might include refusing to reveal to the Nazis at the door that you are hiding Jews inside.  Of course, this is a false comparison in any event, since the person confronted with such a demand is hardly free to act.  Any response they give would be coerced, and thus not a genuine moral act — quite unlike Live Action’s free choice to engage in their undercover activities.

Still, this kind of point can be a valid argument under the Church’s teaching.  There are indeed times when I may not speak the truth.  So, for example, the Catechism (2489) says:

Charity and respect for the truth should dictate the response to every request for information or communication. The good and safety of others, respect for privacy, and the common good are sufficient reasons for being silent about what ought not be known or for making use of a discreet language. The duty to avoid scandal often commands strict discretion. No one is bound to reveal the truth to someone who does not have the right to know it.

There is a problem, however, in relying on this passage.  The section of the Catechism in which this appears relates to situations in which a person has information they are under some obligation to protect as confidential — such as information that would endanger the privacy, reputation or safety of another, a professional secret, or the seal of the confessional.   This passage, on its very terms and seen in the larger context, clearly does not apply to the situation in which the Live Action people placed themselves, since they deliberately set out to deceive the Planned Parenthood workers, and they neither were silent nor used discrete language — they made clear and repeated false representations  about their identity and activities.

A second response is to compare Live Action’s operation to a “ruse de guerre”, such as an ambush or the use of a feint in military operations.  But these actions are actually permissible under the Catechism section cited above, and those that follow it (see CCC 2491), which require that officers maintain military secrets — such as the true objectives of their movements — in order to preserve the lives of their soldiers.  However, Live Action is not at war, and their ruse was not necessary to preserve the lives of anyone.

Another response to Tollefsen’s argument, however, is less legitimate under Catholic teaching, and is actually quite dangerous.  This claims that Live Action’s tactics are necessary to serve a higher purpose — exposing the evil of Planned Parenthood.  These proponents cite the analogy to the need to lie in order to effectively engage in activities like undercover police work or in spying.

While this argument is superficially compelling, there are several problems with it.  Live Action is not a government agency, acting under color of authority to enforce the law or defend the nation — they are private parties, acting on their own initiative.   In addition, undercover agents and spies are actually who they claim to be — they actually are drug buyers, for example — but they justifiably protect a professional secret (i.e., their actual identity and profession), in order to preserve their own safety and that of others (see the Catechism sections cited above).

But the most significant problem, is that this argument is openly consequentialist (“end justifies the means”) and proportionalist (“the good outweighs the evil”) — neither of which is an acceptable Christian position.  Indeed, both of these approaches have been specifically condemned by the Church, most clearly in Pope John Paul II’s encyclical on moral doctrine, Veritatis Splendor.

The danger of this line of argumentation is in what it leads to.  There seems to be a fear that the moral law will preclude us from doing things that we really want to do.  But “I really want to do it, so it must be morally permissible” is a terrible and dangerous reason to carve out very subtle exceptions to a very, very clear moral law.  This argument frequently boils down to a sentiment that “living in the real world” requires actions like this, regardless of what thinkers in academia might believe in their abstract world.  Thus argues the torturer, and the apologist for carpet bombing civilians.  That’s not where a Christian disciple should be going.

In many ways, that’s what this whole argument comes down to.  Am I a disciple of Christ, or am I relying on “worldly wisdom”?  In this context, it would be worthwhile reminding ourselves of St. Paul’s admonition:

Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may prove what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.  (Rom. 12:2)

Is it Wrong to Lie to Planned Parenthood?

Sunday, February 13th, 2011

The past few weeks have seen the release of a series of undercover videos, created by a group called Live Action, which styles itself as “a new media movement for life”.  The videos were taken as part of an undercover “sting” — they sent actors, pretending to be pimps who were prostituting minors,  into Planned Parenthood clinics to see what advice they would be given.

The results of these videos is horrifying.  Time after time, the Planned Parenthood workers, without any apparent qualms, conspire with the “pimp” to facilitate his sex abuse of young girls, and even coach him on how he can continue to exploit them.  These disgusting scenes are no surprise, of course, to anyone who is familiar with the activities of Planned Parenthood.  That evil organization is part of the sex industry — it corrupts the morals of minors through “sex education”, it facilitates immorality by disseminating contraceptives to minors, and it helps to eliminate the consequences of irresponsible sexual behavior by aborting over 300,000 babies a year.

In a certain respect, this is old news.  But what is new is a discussion among pro-lifers, particularly among Catholics, about whether the tactics of Live Action are morally acceptable.

The debate was kicked off by Christopher Tollefsen, a moral philosopher, with a very tightly reasoned article.  He based his argument on a Thomistic definition of what a lie is — an assertion that is contrary to a truth that is believed by the speaker.  So, for example, the military ruse or the bluff in poker is not a lie, in that it does not represent a denial of a truth believed by the actor.  But in the case of the Live Action tactic, the actor plainly asserted “I am a pimp”, knowing that he is not — hence, he was lying.

Tollefsen is certainly right that the Church has always unequivocally condemned lying.  The modern Catechism is very clear on this (see CCC 2482-86).  The Catechism of the Council of Trent — which was seen as authoritative in the Church for four centuries — is absolutely unequivocal and rigorous about this issue, and specifically condemns the idea that one may lie to one’s enemies or in order to gain some kind of advantage.  Pope  Pius X’s Catechism, issued at the beginning of the last century, was equally unambiguous in its condemnation of all kinds of lying.

Indeed, how could we think otherwise?  The Gospel for today, from the Sermon on the Mount, shows Our Lord exhorting us to reject angry words, lustful thoughts, and lack of charity to our brethren.  Can we imagine Jesus approving lying to anyone, even to abortionists — He who commanded us to love our enemies?

To me, the worst problem with lying to anyone, even one’s enemies, is the effect on my own soul and my character.  Here’s what Pope John Paul said about this in Veritatis Splendor:

“Human acts are moral acts because they express and determine the goodness or evil of the individual who performs them. They do not produce a change merely in the state of affairs outside of man but, to the extent that they are deliberate choices, they give moral definition to the very person who performs them, determining his profound spiritual traits. This was perceptively noted by Saint Gregory of Nyssa: “… we are in a certain way our own parents, creating ourselves as we will, by our decisions”. (71)

So, by lying to the Planned Parenthood clerk, what am I creating myself into?  A disciple of Christ, or something else?

The Politics of Principle

Wednesday, February 2nd, 2011

(This is a repeat of a post from this same day the last two years.  It was written in memory of Jack Swan, a great warrior of faith and politics, who entered eternal life on February 2, 1998.  God sent Jack into my life to teach me these lessons about politics, and I’m just a pygmy standing on the shoulders of a giant.  Jack, please pray for me, that I get the lessons right.)

In the mind of most people, “politics” is the struggle of candidates, political parties, and their supporters to gain power and influence in the government. That is certainly true up to a point, and it makes for interesting entertainment.

I write a good deal about politics on this blog and elsewhere, and I’m frequently perceived as being “political” in that sense — of being”partisan”. That completely misses the point.

There is a deeper, more significant nature of politics. It is the way we order our society together, so that we can live according to our vocations and be happy, and ultimately attain eternal life. In this understanding of politics, the partisan theater is an important reality, but it is not the main focus. What really matters is principle.

Without principles, politics becomes mere pragmatism, where the question is whether something “works”, or, in the less elevated version of the game, what’s in it for me. Now, don’t get me wrong. Pragmatism is important — we want our government to be effective. But again, principle is more important.

I received much of my tutelage in the real world of politics from a man who devoted his life to being a practitioner of the politics of principle. I learned that it was fine to be keenly interested in the partisan scrum, but only to the extent that it advanced the principles we hold dear — defense of human life, protection of marriage, family and children, and religious liberty. The promotion of those principles is more important than party label, and the idea is to support — or oppose — politicians based on their fidelity to those principles, not based on what party label they happened to be wearing this week.

That’s how I try to practice politics, in my small and limited way. I have opinions and judgments about many pragmatic issues, and what kinds of national security, economic and other policies would “work” better than others. But none of those pragmatic issues matter at all, compared to the core principles.

Here’s how it works for me. If a politician doesn’t protect human life, I don’t care what his position is on other issues. If he can’t understand that human life is sacred and must be protected at all stages, I have no reason to trust his judgment about any other issue. And, very frankly, anyone who does not understand that basic principle is not, in my opinion, fit to hold public office.

The same holds for the other core issues. I don’t care if you’re a Republican or a Democrat. If you don’t respect human life, don’t see the need to preserve marriage as one man and one woman, and won’t defend religious liberty, they you just have to look elsewhere to get your fifty percent plus one.

This means that I am perpetually dissatisfied with our political process and our politicians. But that’s fine with me. They are all temporary office holders anyway, here today and gone tomorrow, and their platforms are passing fancies that nobody will remember in a short time. The principles, however, remain perpetually valid.

Listen, Our Lord made a very simple request of us. He said, “Follow me”. He didn’t say, be a Republican or a Democrat, a Socialist or a Whig. He demands that I be his follower. So I need to look to the Lord for my principles, and in this age that means I have to listen to the Church. That’s what Our Lord wants me to do — after all, he said to his apostles “he who listens to you listens to me; he who rejects you rejects me; but he who rejects me rejects him who sent me” (Lk 10:16). We happen to have in our midst the successors of those apostles — the Holy Father, our bishops, and my bishop in particular. As a Catholic I must listen to them, and get my political principles from them, not from Fox News, CNN, talking heads of the left or the right, the editorial page of the Times, or either the Democratic or Republican Parties.

This, to me, is the way to live as a disciple of Christ in this crazy political process. I realize that this will be considered odd by many, and even dangerous by some.

But we hardly need more party loyalists at this, or any other, time. And we certainly need more practitioners of the politics of principle.