Deliver Us from Evil

The nation’s bishops are divided, but struggling to stay united, on the question of denying communion. This means that the ‘culture wars’ that have been dividing the US since Roe v. Wade in 1973 now challenge our bishops, testing their ability to offer US Catholics the kind of leadership they need, expect, and deserve.

First, bishops in Denver and St. Louis announce they would refuse communion to John Kerry, and others in Cincinnati and Los Angeles say they will not, and the media starts a “wafer watch” by covering Kerry’s Mass-going. Another bishop says politicians who fail to support church teachings should not take communion, and yet another bishop says they should actually be denied communion, and New Jersey state senator Bernard Kenny announces his decision to quit the Church. The bishop of Colorado Springs goes as far as proclaiming that Catholics who vote for such politicians should not receive communion. Other bishops proclaim these issues a matter of personal conscience. Forty-Eight Catholic members of Congress warn against sanctioning politicians by denying Communion. The bishop of Chicago denies communion to gays wearing sashes, while another mid-west bishop does not.

Interested Catholics everywhere want to know: what is going on here?

In my view, we are witnessing a struggle between two impulses that are as old as Christianity itself—older, in fact, since the Founder of Christianity found them already clashing within his own Jewish tradition. When Jesus was attacked for criticizing Pharisees, for consorting with prostitutes and tax-gatherers, for healing on the Sabbath, he was engaging the same struggle.

It is the struggle between “doctrinal correctness” and pastoral prudence.

Regular Crosscurrents readers may remember that I wrote on prudence two weeks ago, focusing on the past and present mess known as the Archdiocese of Boston. Prudence is the “cardinal” virtue that governs all others, by guiding the application of general principles to specific circumstances. The prudent leader knows it is not enough to be right, because insisting on what is “right” can sometimes do more harm than good. The prudent leader knows the difference between being right and being wise.

It is relatively easy for a bishop to convince himself that he is “doctrinally correct” on any issue, including denying communion. He simply tells himself “I know I’m right because the Bible (or the Pope or the Catechism or Canon Law) tells me so.” It is much harder for that bishop to be pastoral prudent, because that requires asking, “What, then should I do now?”—And risking an answer that is NOT in the Bible, the Catechism, or Canon Law.

This is a particular problem for US bishops. Historically, the Roman Law tradition is to establish general ideal principles, while expecting that their real-life application will need to be flexible and allow for exceptions. But US bishops also inherit America’s culture of British Common Law, which allows no exceptions: if no existing rule covers a particular case, one creates a new rule, which becomes a precedent. Applying the Church’s Roman-style laws in a Common-law culture has often produced a double strictness seen nowhere else in Catholicism. As Father Andrew Greeley has said: “Only Romans would invent these rules, but only Americans would actually try to keep them all.”

Right now we’re watching some bishops dig their heels into “doctrinal correctness” while others opt for pastoral prudence and still others flip-flop between the two. This is not a recipe for Episcopal unity, nor for effective leadership.

Consider the practical implications of denying communion. True, some suggest not receiving should be voluntary, or that denying communion be restricted to “dissent” on a narrow range of “life” issues, like abortion euthanasia, and embryonic stem cell research. But the cumulative logic of the various proposals looks like this: “Communion symbolizes full unity with the Church and all its teachings. Cafeteria Catholics who pick and choose which teaching they support need not apply, since they are not, in fact, in full Communion.”

Now, think through the concrete consequences of that logic. As Cardinal Theodore McCarrick of Washington said last week, denying communion could become a “slippery slope” leading to much wider actions on a whole range of issues. Suppose every politician who supports the death penalty or the war in Iraq or stem cell research or same-sex civil unions or any abortion laws other than total prohibition or the US rejection of the International Criminal Court—suppose all of those officeholders must choose between their baptismal vows and their oath of office? And suppose every Catholic voter must choose between taking communion and voting for candidates (Catholic or not) who support these issues?

Of course, such Church policies would be impossible to enforce. Balloting is secret in our democracy, and reconciliation is secret in our Church, so no one knows how voters vote or which Catholics are in a state of grace. But suppose bishops actually attempted such policies, and suppose Catholics everywhere actually followed their lead?

The logical outcome is as obvious as it is absurd: there would be no Catholic office holders anywhere in the US, and Catholics voters would spend every Election Day at home. For the simple fact is that, in practice, there may not be a single politician in America who supports the Catholic Church on every issue. Virtually all Catholics candidates are, in some way, “cafeteria Catholics”—and all Catholic voters pick cafeteria candidates!

Only a generation ago, many Americans feared electing John Kennedy because they saw Catholics as permanent resident aliens, incapable of full-fledged civic loyalty because of their prior loyalty to Church authority. Some bishops seem determined to confirm that fear by raising the image of a Catholic population whose faith obliges them to withdraw from both voting and public service. Is that really what these bishops want?

Of course the practice of denying Communion has a place in church history—but only as a way of controlling Catholics and Catholic rulers in a Christian state, prior to the modern constitutional practice of separating church and state and prior to Vatican II’s acceptance of such separation. The US is not a Catholic state, or even a Christian state. By law, it is a secular state. Roe v. Wade, for example, is the law of the land, like it or not—and every office holder vows to uphold that law as a condition for public office. Under these modern conditions, denying communion implies ridiculous consequences.

Forty-four years ago, John Kennedy acknowledged the moral boundaries for Catholic officeholders. Since they are bound by two vows (baptism and the oath of office), their actions are always subject to two standards. If those standards conflict, the officeholder must either reconcile the conflict or resign his office. In principle, Kennedy was as “doctrinally correct” as any bishop. But he also knew that such decisions belong to the officeholders themselves, not to Church officials.

We can only hope that doctrinal correctness will not become a “slippery slope” leading to policies that are “right” but unwise. But we must also fear that “doctrinal correctness’ is fast becoming the blunt instrument of Church officials who know they are right but are incapable of doing the right thing.

Send Your Comments and Questions to bfswain@juno.com