Author Archives: Kevin F. Keiser

THE CDF CORRECTS FISICHELLA

Archbishop Fisichella’s intervention regarding the abortion of the twins of the nine-year old Brazilian girl has been corrected by the CDF, via a front page article of the Osservatore Romano.
See the story down at Sandro Magister.

My two cents on Theology of the Body, part III

See part I here.

See part II here.

3. What God tells us about the body, or what the body tells us about God?

This one is more of a clarification than a problem.

For a long time, Theology was considered a science, and it was considered as supremely one. And as a science, it had its own principles, which also set the method for the science (since every science’s proper method will depend on what its principles are). The principles of theology are found in Revelation. Philosophy can tell us a little bit about God, insofar as He is first Mover, Pure Act, etc. But the knowledge of God in Himself is something that only God could grant through Revelation.

However, what God reveals is not restricted to His own inner Life and other things that cannot be known by reason. God has also revealed many things that are knowable by reason, and also many things that seem to be particular historical facts, which are normally not the province of scientific (i.e., universal) knowledge. This is because what makes something part of theology is not the fact that it had to be revealed, but the fact that it is revealed. St. Thomas says it thus:

Sacred doctrine is one science. The unity of a faculty or habit is to be gauged by its object, not indeed, in its material aspect, but as regards the precise formality under which it is an object. For example, man, ass, stone agree in the one precise formality of being colored; and color is the formal object of sight. Therefore, because Sacred Scripture considers things precisely under the formality of being divinely revealed, whatever has been divinely revealed possesses the one precise formality of the object of this science; and therefore is included under sacred doctrine as under one science…

Similarly, objects which are the subject-matter of different philosophical sciences can yet be treated of by this one single sacred science under one aspect precisely so far as they can be included in revelation. So that in this way, sacred doctrine bears, as it were, the stamp of the divine science which is one and simple, yet extends to everything (ST, q. 1, a. 3, co. and ad 2).

So can theology be about the body?  Undoubtedly yes. It is not at all an oxymoron. Scripture contains many things about the body.

But the body is not for fornication, but for the Lord: and the Lord for the body. Now God hath raised up the Lord and will raise us up also by his power. Know you not that your bodies are the members of Christ? Shall I then take the members of Christ and make them the members of an harlot? God forbid!  Or know you not that he who is joined to a harlot is made one body? For they shall be, saith he, two in one flesh. But he who is joined to the Lord is one spirit. Fly fornication. Every sin that a man doth is without the body: but he that  committeth fornication sinneth against his own body. Or know you not that your members are the temple of the Holy Ghost, who is in you, whom you have from God: and you are not your own? For you are bought with a great price. Glorify and bear God in your body (1 Cor. 6: 13-20)

There is certainly room, then, for a theology of the body.

However, it is generally my impression that TOB advocates are less interested in what God has revealed about the body, and more interested in what the body can tell us about God. This, strictly speaking, is not properly theology. It is, at best, a kind of philosophy, examining what one particular creature can tell us about the first cause. Such an approach is not merely an ailment of TOB; it is quite fashionable today with all our “aspect theologies”. We have feminist theology, Hispanic theology, black theology, I think we even have gay and lesbian theology; theology of the corporation, theology of cooperation, theology of liberation, theology of the web, etc… It would be desirable at some point to see once again a theology of God. We can’t just choose a point of view and see where its coloring of our thought leads us with regard to the subject of the science.

That being said, however, one thing remains true: the conclusions of the philosophical disciplines are included in Theology insofar as they are necessary to understand what is revealed. Hence, if the body does tell us something about God, it could be included in theology. Nevertheless, in itself, it remains properly a philosophical inquiry, just as Aristotle’s examination of habits, for instance, is properly a philosophical investigation, and yet, since it is necessary for understanding the supernatural moral life (e.g., the infused moral virtues), it is taken up into theology.  But there is a difference between this and the mere choice of a “coloring” we are going to give to our theological thought.  The study of God deserves no agenda.

See part iv here

See part v here

See part vi here

See part vii here.

My two cents on Theology of the Body, part II

See part 1 here.

2. The Principles.

Every science only extends as far as its principles. If one starts with matter, form, and privation, one can only give a scientific account of the causes and properties of mobile being. Theology of the Body begins from the phenomenological method. That is, in an attempt to meet people where they are at, it appeals to most people’s experience.

The thing is, if one begins with experience, the end will be a scientific explanation of people’s experience. No more, no less. And this is useful. But again, it is not going to answer the nitty-gritty moral questions. Questions about morality are questions about the proper ordering of man’s voluntary acts. How men experience themselves as acting persons is not the proper guide. Some metaphysics will be needed; there will have to be some understanding of what man’s final end is, what the ends of the powers of the soul are, which faculties of the soul are the most important, indeed, what makes man to be man.

The theologian Bernard Lonergan (NOTE: I am referring to the early Bernard Lonergan, when he remained a speculative Thomist; not the later Bernard Lonergan, who turned to a more phenomenological method) mentions this fact in critiquing the work of Herbert Doms, one of the theologians credited, along with Dietrich von Hildebrand, with bringing a more personalistic approach to marital morality.  Lonergan says:

…marriage is more an incorporation of the finality of sex than of sex itself. Of course, it it just the opposite that seems true to phenomenologist scrutiny, for that ignores the metaphysical principle that what is prior quoad se is posterior quoad nos, and that the more ultimate final cause enters more intimately into the nature of a thing than the more proximate…This, I think, touches upon a fundamental methodological error in the analysis presented by Dr. Doms. I agree that sex is to be distinguished from fecundity, as impotence from sterility. I agree with the validity of the question, What is the ontological significance of bisexuality [i.e., the distinction of male and female]. It is only a terminological difference when he asserts that the meaning of marriage is union and I say that the act and end of bisexuality is union, or when in different ways we both place two ends beyond this union. But when he speaks of this meaning of union as immanent, intrinsic, immediate, I distinguish: in the chronological order of human knowledge or of the development of human appreciation, the union is first; but in the ontological order the ordinations to the ends are more immanent, more intrinsic, more immediate to the union than the union itself. For what is first in the ontological constitution of a thing is not the experiential datum but, on the contrary, what is known in the last and most general act of understanding with regard to it; what is next, is the next most general understanding, etc. Thus the proximate end of bisexuality is union; but of its nature, bisexuality is an instrument of fecundity, so that the end of fecundity is more an end of bisexuality than is union… ["Finality, Love, Marriage," Theological Studies 4 (1943)]

Prof. Janet Smith also makes an allusion to this principle in her most recent defense of Christopher West.

Now, in actual practice (as far as I can tell), no TOB advocate actually remains purely at the level of phenomena. We are Catholics, and we have a moral tradition. We all know that certain things are right, and certain things are wrong. And most TOB advocates resort to metaphysical presuppositions at one time or another. For instance, many that I have been exposed to point out that the actions of the body have objective (and not just subjective) significative power. But that only proves one thing: at some point, you have to get to the nature of things. Why is contraception so often referred to as “a lie”?  Because in the nature of things, the spouses are not giving something that is proper to marriage. There is something that they are doing that does not belong to the very raison d’etre of that particular union of man and woman called marriage, a union whose form is not made by their own wills (though it is entered into by their own wills), but somehow belongs to the nature of the rational animal. In the end, it presupposes what marriage is for, and what sex is for. But the phenomena do not tell you that.

I must head off one objection: Does not St. Thomas himself say all knowledge begins in the senses?  Does not every science begin with experience?  This is true. But for St. Thomas, the senses are the beginnings (initia) of intellectual knowledge, not its principles (principia). The senses provide the phantasm, which is knowable in potency, but it is the simple light of the agent intellect that renders a thing’s nature known in act. Knowledge has its beginnings in experience, which is of the particular, but it ends in understanding, which is of the universal. The agent intellect automatically perceives the common in the many, in a confused manner at first, but then, as reason continues its discourse, it can proceed to a more specific concept, and even formulate a definition. This is not phenomenology. Phenomenology looks at men’s experiences and simply describes them, as men’s experiences. Phenomenologists may believe or not believe that there is an actual bridge between the phenomena and the things. A consideration of the things themselves as objects is merely bracketed out. The phenomenological method itself prefers to reflect on the experience itself, as it is in the knowing subject. This has its uses. But it does not answer the questions of morality. At best, it will only tell us a bit of what’s going on in our psyche as we perform good or evil acts.

The future Pope John Paul II himself admitted the limits of the phenomenological method:

If ethical experience essentially consists in this specific becoming of the person, then the only interpretation of it that can be considered adequate is one that apprehends and expresses this ethical becoming. This is what also leads me to believe that we should consider the view of the human act developed by Thomas Aquinas an adequate interpretation of ethical experience. I do not intend here to analyze his view or its adequacy in relation to the complete structure of ethical experience. I only want to draw attention to its origin. St. Thomas based his view of the human act on Aristotle’s theory of potency and act, a theory by which the philosophy of being explains all changes that take place in beings. Every change, whether it is of a material or spiritual nature, whether it takes place in an organism or in the psyche, can be said—in an analogical sense, of course—to be a form of passage from potency to act. A conscious human act is for St. Thomas not merely a stage upon which ethical experience is enacted. It is itself an ethical experience because it is an act of will. An act of will is for St. Thomas a passage from potency, since the will is a faculty (potentia) of the soul. A separate study would be needed to show how the ethical becoming of the person is reflected in this view as a whole.

Nevertheless, the reasons presented in this last part of the essay clearly show that phenomenology of the will alone does not suffice for interpreting ethical experience, even if this phenomenology happens to be as much in harmony with experience as that upon which Ach and his whole experimental school are based. Phenomenology can indirectly assist us in overcoming certain errors in views of the will that arise from an improper relation to the empirical facts, but it cannot serve as a tool for the sort of interpretation of ethical experience upon which ethics as a normative science is based.

***

See part III here

See part IV here

See part V here

See part VI here

See part vii here.

That Vatican… always prohibiting!

The Brazil excommunications case, about which I posted quite a few posts months ago, is back in the news, mainly due to the Osservatore Romano’s negligence in granting a platform to Archbishop Cardoso in response to Fisichella’s critique.

Ed Peters offers his own thoughts here.  I draw particular attention to his indication of the scandal caused by the Fisichella piece:

Perhaps some will think my interpretation of Fisichella’s comments unfair? I invite them to consider the devastating analysis of Fisichella’s comments offered by Msgr Michel Schooyans, a Belgian bioethicist and member of three pontifical academies, including the Academy of Life. He finds Fisichella’s comments “astonishing” and is urging nothing less than a personal papal intervention in correction thereof. Or, via negativa, the notorious Frances Kissling took comfort in Fisicella’s comments, showing thereby how poorly the prelate served his office and the wider cause of defending preborn babies from the abortionists’ savagery.

I followed up on these links, and found this rather humorous statement in Kissling’s piece, apparently referring to another topic about which I have posted often:

While more often than not, the paper toes the Vatican line, it is a space where trial balloons are floated and controversial opinion by mainstream church figures right and left is expressed. Opinions regarding modest changes in the Vatican prohibition on AIDS have been published.

Wait, what’s that?  “The Vatican prohibition on AIDS”?  Gosh, that Vatican!  Now they want to take our AIDS away from us, too!

Surely it’s a mistype.  But it does indicate that sometimes people in their haste lose sight of the objects of the prohibitions, taking issue with the mere fact of prohibition.

My two cents on Theology of the Body, part 1

Theology of the Body has been in the Catholic news a lot lately.  TOB is something I have been thinking about for a while.  The following six posts or so will be a collection of many of my thoughts on its merits and liabilities.

For the sake of fairness, it might be appropriate from the outset to let readers know where I am coming from. First, I am not into Theology of the Body. And this is not only due to the circumstances of my intellectual formation. I remember hearing the usual TOB-inspired arguments against fornication, contraception, etc., as a high school student, and even then, I wondered about their cogency. By way of example, I was never content with being told that contraception was wrong because it did not signify a total self-giving. The terms just seemed too indefinite. I thought things were much clearer and simpler if we just admitted that it was simply because it was not ordered to procreation, which remains the primary end of marriage. I know that Theology of the Body does not deny this. But the Thomistic approach makes it clearer, by going directly to the cause of the disorder of the act, while TOB, as it was presented to me, makes circumlocutions through sign-values. And these would only be cogent if significative power, and not order to an end, was the measure of morality (of course, there are those who define morality as the study of human actions insofar as they are pieces of communication, but I also find this unconvincing).

Second, I consider myself a Thomist, and while many see TOB and St. Thomas as not incompatible, I certainly find that they are very different. TOB is certainly connected with phenomenology and personalism, and many experts in Catholic versions of both of these schools practically begin their treatises by identifying the “shortcomings” of Aquinas. Whether one seems them as compatible or not, one thing is for certain: they are distinct.

Third, I have not read Christopher West. Hence, in what follows, I do not intend to give him particular consideration. I am simply unqualified to do so. However, I am acquainted with the Wednesday Audiences of Pope John Paul II. And I have read them in their more correct translation by Michael Waldstein. I would hazard that I have the gist of it. But I will readily admit that I am no expert.

So let the reader beware. My words here will not satisfy everyone.  C. S. Lewis once said that one who dislikes science fiction is precisely unqualified to be a critic of science fiction. For this reason, the critique of Christopher West himself is better left to those who belong to the TOB school. And they have been doing so.

But, to take the analogy further, it certainly could pertain to an expert in literature to judge the relative merits of the different genres of literature and answer such questions as how science fiction fits in. In fact, it always pertains to the more universal art or science to judge the conclusions of the less universal art or science. Theology of the Body, simply by the addition of that descriptive phrase, is a particulated branch of theology. Thomism is at least an attempt to over the whole, springing from a time when Theology was simply the Theology of God; and that’s as universal as you can get. Of course, one could argue that I am not universal theology incarnate, and neither is St. Thomas; and that is, of course, true. But my study of theology has led me to have a definite opinion of TOB.

1. Theology of the Body is not very useful for discovering or demonstrating moral precepts.

I am a Moral Theologian, and a lot of Moral Theology is talking about what’s right and wrong, what is or is not against reason. For these particular questions, TOB by itself is not very helpful. And this is so for a very simple reason: most moral precepts belong to the natural law. Their proper principle is nature, not Revelation, and therefore, not theology. It is true that God has also revealed many moral precepts, coming to the aid of our ignorance. But most moral precepts, even those that have been revealed, regard the natural law. This is certainly true with regard to sexual matters: the norms that the Church proposes belong to us as men, not as Christians.  The difference between philosophical ethics and moral theology is not to be found primarily in a new set of precepts, proper to believers, but rather, in new principles (grace, the infused virtues, the Gifts of the Holy Spirit), a new end (the Beatific Vision in the glory of the saints), and a new mode (e.g., natural temperance curbs appetites so as not to harm bodily health, whereas infused temperance “chastises the body, and makes it obey” one, and unites one to the sufferings of Christ, etc.). The substance of the acts is the same, though now their form is supernatural charity.

I know that most TOB experts will agree with this. But I think it is worth mentioning again because some have advocated a re-visiting of moral questions to find new solutions through Theology of the Body, as if the natural law has not or cannot give us a demonstrative answer. Or, even further, some speak as if the Catholic Church has been operating under an inability to arrive at a true understanding of sexual morality until Theology of the Body arrived on the scene.

The fact is that when we give an account for the reason that fornication, or contraception, etc. is wrong, to say that it does not adequately express the total personal self-giving of the Trinity will neither convince everyone (for unbelievers are not too concerned about the Trinity, and yet they are bound to the natural law), nor is it the real argument. It may be a true argument, as an added further effect and sign of the disorder of reason entailed in these acts. But such an argument would presuppose a disorder already present in the act. The primo and per se argument, that is, the argument that does not presuppose any other disorder, is the one that manifests the lack of due order to man’s end. The moral precepts that the Church has been defending in the 20th century are precepts of the natural law, not precepts from divine command added to the natural law. One does not need to have recourse to theology or Revelation or the Faith to defend them. They are proposed to all men. Theology of the Body can reinforce the arguments from the natural law. It can be an aid to believers. Indeed, it is often said that Pope John Paul II wrote it to defend Humanae Vitae.  But it cannot do without the arguments from natural law. Indeed, as much as it may try to get away from them, it is actually based on them, for a thing cannot be a natural sign of something unless the reality entails the cause and effect relationship between the signified and the signifying.

***

See part 2 here.

See part 3 here.

See part 4 here.

See part 5 here.

See part 6 here.

See part vii here.

On Modern Science and the Existence of God

In his piece “God and Science Don’t Mix” (WSJ, June 26), Lawrence Krauss makes the case that the rational atheism purportedly required to conduct scientific inquiry makes it also eminently rational to suppose that God does not exist in reality.  In his words: “Faced with the remarkable success of science to explain the workings of the physical world, many, indeed probably most, scientists understandably… extrapolate the atheism of science to a more general atheism.  While such a leap may not be unimpeachable it is certainly rational.”

Is that so evident?  I could see how it is understandable, as Krauss himelf said.  Since modern scientists precisely limit themselves to the exploration and recording of observable phenomena, of course, with such limitations, they will tend to think that, with the help of instruments that have expanded our observations exponentially, they have explained almost all there is to explain.  But is this rational?  Is it reasonable to think that the material world that is observable by our experience contains everything within itself to explain itself?

How does this science explain the existence of the primordial cosmic “egg” whose immense amounts of pent up energy eventually broke out in a big bang?  Where did that energy come from?  Smaller elements before the “egg”?  Nothing?  How did random concatenations of the elemental atoms that later cooled themselves into existence decide to come together and form a unit that takes in other exterior matter and assimilates it into its own substance?  What about sensation?  Does the action of electro-magnetic waves upon rods and cones in the eye and impulses to the brain really explain how an animal “sees”?  What about intellectual potencies?  How is it that some of these animals can extrapolate from the individual things that they sense and come to a universal idea, not only of “dog” and “cat”, but also of things that are unsensible, like “free market,” and “communism,” or “the virtue of bravery”?  How are all these things explained from the observable activities of matter?  “Tell me, if thou knowest all things.” (Job 38:18).

Nemo dat quod non habet.  I believe quite firmly in natural causality and the explanations of modern science.  But there are still many problems behind its recent discoveries–the existence of that primordial “egg,” the origin of a more complex species from a less complex species, the origin of life, the origin of sensation, the origin of understanding, etc.  These are examples of activities that simply go beyond the causalities of matter and energy by way of contact and motion.  You can talk about survival of the fittest all you want and how it sufficiently accounts for the species we see now.  But at some point, two fish, even if genetically aberrant fish, have to give birth to a frog with whom only another frog can mate and produce fertile offspring.  How does matter give this, when it hasn’t got it yet?  How does it do this if there is no higher cause than itself?  Most scientists agree that matter and energy, left to themselves, tend to entropy.  But the first billions of years of our universe go in the opposite direction.

The atheism of many scientist is certainly understandable, but I beg to differ when one calls it rational.  They simply haven’t thought hard enough.  As Empedocles put it in the 5th century B.C., “Fools!  For they have no far-reaching minds who think that what before was not, comes to be.”  It’s another way of saying you can’t give what you haven’t got.  Perhaps this is the reason, too, for the Psalmist’s “The fool hath said in his heart: There is no God” (Ps. 14:1).

So, where are we anyway?

To any readers who have come here and been wondering if we’ve quit the commentary:

No, we haven’t.  But my wife Heidi and I have been busy for a while.  The doctoral dissertation needed some immediate attention, and we’re both preparing for an interstate move and for my new job.  So posting has been, and will continue to be sparse.  I will not be able to compose many new posts, but I do intend to continue posting once a week or so, putting up things that I have already written.  Once the doctoral dissertation is finished, I will perhaps return to the frequency with which I started.

The bilingual Summa project is continuing, but we’re not sure we’ll meet our original goal of August 15th for volume 3 (I-II, q. 1-70).

On Condoms and the Magisterium

From Martin Rhonheimer, The Truth about Condoms, 10 July 2004:

…the Church is thought to teach that sexually active homosexuals and prostitutes should refrain from condoms because condoms are “intrinsically evil” (The Tablet, 26 June). Many Catholics also believe this….But this is not a teaching of the Catholic Church. There is no official magisterial teaching either about condoms or about anti-ovulatory pills or diaphragms…

From the Holy Office, 6 April 1853:

Question: Whether the imperfect use of matrimony, whether onanistacally or condomistically (that is, applying a wicked instrument commonly called a “condom”) may, as in the present case, be licit?

Response: No, for it is intrinsically evil.

Just sayin’…

On Notre Dame, George Bush, Barack Obama, and the Difference between Abortion and the Death Penalty

Tom Peters has posted an interview with Bishop D’Arcy of South Bend, where the interviewer questions the Bishop’s absenting himself from the upcoming commencement address by President Obama by comparing it to the same prelate’s attendance when President Bush gave the commencement address.  The idea is, just as Obama is for abortion, President Bush was for the death penalty, so what’s the difference?  Are not both the taking of a human life?

The Bishop responds in part by saying that a good Catholic can “disagree with the Church on the death penalty.”  Cardinal Ratzinger expressed the same in a memo to Cardinal McCarrick about withholding Communion from pro-abortion candidates back in 2004.  This certainly implies that the Church’s current negative stance on the death penalty does not regard it as a per se malum like abortion (for on these, a “good Catholic” cannot disagree).

So what about the taking of human life?

With regard to the death penalty, I think the two extremes to avoid are clear.  First of all, we cannot say, as some do, that it is an intrinsic evil.  For one thing,the Church doesn’t teach this.  “The traditional teaching of the Church does not exclude, presupposing full ascertainment of the identity and responsibility of the offender, recourse to the death penalty…“  But also, we must recall that it is not something that we have to practice either, and we should take Pope John Paul’s Evangelium Vitae seriously.  Prudentially, I think there may be instances (even now) where one should decide not to make use of the right of the death penalty.  But the main point is that we cannot say, as some have, that the Church was wrong to permit the death penalty in the past, and that now, the doctrine has developed.  A development of doctrine can clarify what has always been held, but it cannot contradict it, in matters of faith and morals.

But what has been the Church’s reasoning for asserting that the state has such a right?

With regard to the distinction between abortion and the death penalty, there are two key premises that have bolstered the Church’s moral teaching.

1) One is that the state, in its capacity of caring for the more universal common good, has certain rights that the individual doesn’t have.  Antonin Scalia notes that this might be hard to understand today due to the fact that we tend to forget in modern democracy that the state is more than the sum of its voting individuals.  Be that as it may, the state has a more universal role of causality, and participates in God’s own governance of things (Note: in my opinion, Scalia goes perhaps a bit too far in basically giving no weight to Evangelium Vitae‘s injunction against the Death Penalty).

2)  The second is that innocent human life is never detrimental, but always beneficial to the common good.

As for 1)

The traditional teaching has been that when it comes to killing, the private person never has the authority or the right to directly intend killing any human being.  Even in self-defense, the death of one’s aggressor is an unintended effect; the intended action is just due counter-force.  If, in defending oneself, an individual were to directly intend the death of his aggressor or use a means that was excessive, they are not without sin.  The individual simply cannot have the right to take another’s life.

But in the Church’s teaching, the state does have that right.  And of course this right is executed through the officials of the state: the ruler, but also the military and the peace-keeping forces, and even executioners.  When these men act, their role is not only one of self-defense: they are directly intending to kill another man.  They do this, not on their own private authority, but in the name of the state, which, again, because of its more universal causality, extends to more things than the individual can do.  Hence, in both war and capital punishment, the soldiers/state officials are directly intending the deaths of those whom they kill.

Now, of course, there must be a reason for allowing this to happen.  And in the Church’s teaching, one of the principal reasons was moral guilt.  That is, whether it be a criminal, or an invading country that is committing an injustice, those whom the state directly intends to kill must be guilty of something.  This even obtains in war, i.e., even if it seems expedient, a war against a nation that has done nothing morally wrong is unjust, even if it seems better for the common good to go to war with that nation (of course, morally wrong can include preparations for aggression, not just actual aggression).

Some theologians don’t buy this account of the state being allowed to intend direct killing.  They would rather say that no human entity can intend direct killing ever.  Nevertheless, knowing that the Church has asserted that the state has a right to capital punishment, they also know that they can’t say it is an intrinsic evil.  So some have maintained that the death penalty is more a form of self-defense on the community level.  Now, it is true that it can have this secondary effect, i.e., repeated offenders are thereby eliminated.  However, capital punishment is not self-defense for two reasons: one is, it is still clear that the state is directly intending the death of the malefactor.  St. Thomas says as much when he distinguishes between self-defense by a private individual and by a public authority, as well as when he says that a judge simply wills the death of a murderer (scroll to reply to objection 1). Indeed, it is absurd to say that execution is an unintended death.  It’s not as if the state is protecting itself in some immediate fashion, and, regrettably, someone died in the process.  Secondly, seeing capital punishment as punishment, and not just as self-defense, is actually more just.  If the death penalty were primarily seen as a form of self-defense, then it becomes utilitarian, in that guilt for former crime is no longer the determining factor, but simply perceived threat.  If you saw Minority Report, you have an example that precisely shows the problem with seeing the role of the penal system as one of defense instead of punishment: people are “punished” before they have even done anything wrong.

On the contrary, punishment, as such, has as its first end the redress of the disorder caused by the offender.  Just as the offender went against the law according to his own will, the idea of punishment is to make the offender suffer something according to the law against his own will, proportionate to his transgression.  This proportionality makes it so that greater crimes are allotted greater punishments of greater goods being taken away from the guilty.  And this has not excluded his very life, in the Church’s teaching.  Besides this primary end, there are secondary ends of punishment, such as the protection of the state, the correction of morals, and even the correction of the culprit himself.  But these cannot be pursued in such a way as to take away the first end, which depends on the notion of already existing guilt.

Nevertheless, what is true is that, as long as the first end is maintained to any degree, the state may modify punishments to better serve a secondary end.  A key example is the death penalty itself.  Although the crime committed may in a sense “deserve” the death penalty because of its gravity, as long as some retribution to the order of justice is maintained, the state can choose a punishment that would better serve the common good.  Aristotle himself says that the state’s end is justice, but friendship even more so.  The same is true today.  Although we must teach that the state has the right to inflict the death penalty, it can definitely be argued that today, when we are trying to counteract a culture of death, it would be better not to make use of that right.  In fact, more often than not, punishment in human justice is often not judged according to its first end alone, but is modified in accord with a judgment for the common good.  St. Thomas says that the punishments of this life are more medicinal than retributive (scroll down to reply to the second for both links).  And this is fine, as long as they remain retributive (i.e., based on redressing the disorder brought in by previous guilt).

Thus, some read Pope John Paul II’s Evangelium Vitae as basically making the prudential judgment that this is not the time to make use of capital punishment.  The common good of society is better served by not using it, in order to promote the culture of life.  Circumstances may change in the future, and even prudential considerations can be flawed.  That’s why a “good Catholic” can “disagree with the Church on the death penalty.”

Of course, we can also say that there may be some development of doctrine with regard to the death penalty.  For instance, it is very reasonable to say that the crimes for which the death penalty could be applied is truthfully less than we might have seen it to be in the past.  This is legitimate development.  What would be an illegitimate development is to say that “Well, before the Church taught that the death penalty was OK, but we know better now.”

Besides being against reason and the tradition, to say that the death penalty is an intrinsic evil also seems to be against Scripture, especially Romans 13:4, and the uncorrected words of the good thief, Luke 23:41.  And there are plenty of testimonies in the Old Testament.

As for 2)

So how does this square with abortion?  Well, simply in that the unborn are always innocent, and though some (like Doug Kmiec, Nancy Pelosi, and  Joe Biden) may think that the common good is served by killing the innocent, that is simply not true.  St. Thomas puts it well.

I answer that, an individual man may be considered in two ways: first, in himself; secondly, in relation to something else. If we consider a man in himself, it is unlawful to kill any man, since in every man though he be sinful, we ought to love the nature which God has made, and which is destroyed by slaying him. Nevertheless, as stated above (Article 2) the slaying of a sinner becomes lawful in relation to the common good, which is corrupted by sin. On the other hand the life of righteous men preserves and forwards the common good, since they are the chief part of the community. Therefore it is in no way lawful to slay the innocent. ST, II-II, q. 64, a. 6

It is the fact that criminals are guilty that gives the state the right to intend their deaths, though it may never intend the death of the innocent.  As for human dignity, it always remains valid.  What must be remembered though is that “dignity” is basically a Latinized word for  “worthiness.”  Hence, different dignities are named in reference to different goods that the subject is worthy of.  All human persons, simply by being human, retain their natural “worthiness” of their final supernatural end if they so choose to remain in God’s grace or turn back to it through repentance.  No creature can take this from them; it is inviolable.  And this is the true property of human dignity (a great book on this, hard to find, however, is The Primacy of the Common Good as the Root of Personal Dignity in the Doctrine of St. Thomas, by Fr. Sebastian Walshe, O. Praem).  But men may lose their worthiness for other goods based on the use or abuse they made of the goods of which they were once worthy.  Hence, St. Thomas actually says that the person who sins in a sense loses some part of his human dignity, and that is why the state can enjoin the death penalty upon him.

Reply to Objection 3. By sinning man departs from the order of reason, and consequently falls away from the dignity of his manhood, in so far as he is naturally free, and exists for himself, and he falls into the slavish state of the beasts, by being disposed of according as he is useful to others. This is expressed in Psalm 48:21: “Man, when he was in honor, did not understand; he hath been compared to senseless beasts, and made like to them,” and Proverbs 11:29: “The fool shall serve the wise.” Hence, although it be evil in itself to kill a man so long as he preserve his dignity, yet it may be good to kill a man who has sinned, even as it is to kill a beast. For a bad man is worse than a beast, and is more harmful, as the Philosopher states (Polit. i, 1 and Ethic. vii, 6). ST, II-II, q. 64, a. 2, ad 3

Hence, when we say that “human dignity is inviolable,” I understand that to mean the human dignity that accrues to us insofar as we are “worthy” of a supernatural end if we work with God’s grace, a good that no human power can ever take from us, and a good in comparison to which all other physical evils are not comparable, and even may be beneficial.  But the inviolability of human dignity does not necessarily extend to all other goods, even life included.  Guilt, and only guilt, can make us unworthy of it.  After all, liberty of the body and possession of private property are also natural goods that man is worthy of, but we also take them away from a man when he sins.

One of the best treatments of capital punishment that I have read is an article by the lawyer Pat Laurence.  It’s certainly worth a read for those who are interested in pursuing the topic in greater depth.

In summary:

1.  The state, because of its more universal role in caring for the common good, actually has a right that private persons do not have, namely, the right to directly intend to take another’s life.

2.  This right, exercised for the sake of the common good, never permits us to kill the innocent.  Punishment is only given for guilt.

3.  Abortion is an intrinsic evil because it is the chosen taking of innocent human life, which is inherently against reason, and thus an intrinsic evil, a per se malum.  Nevertheless, the taking of human life, just as a notion in itself, is not inherently against reason, even when it is chosen.  There are cases when it may be done by the proper authority.  Indeed, this is precisely the reason behind the Church’s teaching on the death penalty and just war.

What of the commandment, “Thou shall not kill?”  Take a look at what St. Thomas says about that commandment (scroll down to numbers  [7-9].  St. Thomas also gives a good argument for when the death penalty must be avoided).

On Canon 916, holding oneself back from Communion, and an interesting thought of St. Thomas

Canon Lawyer Dr. Ed Peters of Sacred Heart Seminary has a post on Canons 915 and 916 in light of the current questions of interpretation on how to conduct the giving or receiving of Communion by those who are notorious grave sinners or otherwise not in communion with the Church.  Dr. Peters hits the main difficulty from the human point of view:

To be sure, both canons make serious demands on the faithful.
It’s not easy for an individual Catholic to refrain from going to holy Communion at Mass. The so-called ‘Communion fast’ offers no cover for a Catholic with a doubtful, let alone a guilty, conscience. These days, to remain in the pew while everyone else goes to Communion is tantamount to saying “I think I’m in the state of grave sin.” Who wants to imply that?

We are weak human beings, and it takes a lot of strength to do such a thing.  Of course, strength, robur (which literally implies the steadfastness of an oak tree) is the effect of one of the other sacraments, namely, Confirmation, the sacrament that makes you “firm”.  In this line of thought, St. Thomas has this interesting statement, which, as far as I know, he only says once in all of his works:

…for all the other sacraments are seen to be ordered to this sacrament [i.e., the Eucharist] as to an end.  For it is manifest that the sacrament of Orders is ordered to the consecration of the Eucharist.  But the sacrament of Baptism is ordered to the reception of the Eucharist.  In this, someone is also perfected through Confirmation, so that he may not be afraid to withdraw himself from such a sacrament…

An interesting thought: an effect of Confirmation is the fortitude not to go to Communion when you shouldn’t.  This could certainly be useful today, when many parishes have the enforced courtesy squad in the form of ushers who let us know when it is our turn to receive Communion.

Of course, in St. Thomas’ day, the reception of Confirmation generally preceded the reception of first Communion in the West.  Today, it is not so, at least in the U.S.  And I don’t think that the practice has to change just because of this consideration.  Confirmation itself does not carry in its notion any determination as to age; its determination is left free to the discretion of the Church’s ministers.   Nevertheless, I think it would be nice if by some determination of positive law, we made it easier for conscientious Catholics to “withdraw” from the reception of Communion when they judge they should not.  For that, I support Dr. Ed Peters’ own proposals for modifying the Communion fast.