First Thoughts on IVF, Part II

Here is the next section of the letter, a series of individual responses to individual points, marked by socio-historico-theological speculation of dubious quality:

At least for now, rather than organizing this on its own terms, I’m going to follow your letter, responding to those things you say that I think require response. Then I may organize this more organically.

I too think the teaching on Mortal Sin makes sense. But I would also argue that one can separate oneself from God without knowing one is doing so. Imagine that the Nazi Joseph Goebbels had not murdered his family when he committed suicide, and that his son grew to adulthood, perhaps in a foreign country. It is conceivable that he would have grown up with an inveterate hatred for Jews and for the principles of those countries that had won the war and thus caused his father to commit suicide. Were he to take the same bus ride as the protagonist of C. S. Lewis’s The Great Divorce, and find himself invited into heaven at the behest of a sister or friend who had died previously, it is possible that he would have treated the offer in the same way as many of Lewis’s characters – perhaps he would have asked whether his father was there, or whether any Jews lived in heaven, or whether Franklin Roosevelt or Churchill or any of the dirty Russians or Poles were there. And if he heard that his father was not, or that any of the others were, perhaps he would have rejected God and chosen to take the bus back to the gray town. A lifetime full of venial sins is hardly a recipe for salvation.

I also believe that the Church can be infallible, and the fact that the declaration of infallibility is rarely used. I don’t think the teaching of the Church on divorce can or will change, however, as the logic of annulment is rooted in the very words of Christ. Citing Genesis, he says, “‘Therefore what God has joined together, let no man separate’” (Matthew 19.6). The fact that more annulments are given out today has no bearing on this revelation or on the teaching of the Church. Perhaps it is a practical response to deeper understandings of how human nature works (i.e., the concept of addiction, which was once thought to be a matter of will, and is now seen to be a matter of genetic predisposition that may make one unfit for undertaking a commitment such as marriage, at least before a serious recognition by the addict of his or her situation and proclivities). Perhaps it is a mistake inspired by the general trend in First World countries towards belief in the inherent goodness of “niceness.” Examples may include the unwillingness of European nations to use war to solve almost any problem, the disbelief in corporal punishment in school or the home, the approval of welfare as a method of solving poverty, the growing intolerance of “judging,” the laissez-faire attitude toward drug use, and the celebration of homosexuality, intentional single motherhood, and meaningless sex. My point is not that any of these is right or wrong, but that the general trend of Western society since the end of the First World War has said that life should be easier, and that people stuck in situations they don’t like should have no moral qualms about extracting themselves by means that were previously disallowed or disapproved of. The actions of the Church obviously depend on people influenced by the society around them. But just because some little Polish ladies get dangerously close to worshipping statues does not mean the Church condones idol worship. And just because the understanding of what constitutes a true marriage has changed, or because the tenor of society in which members of the Church live has affected the way those members think and act, does not change the eternal teaching of the Church that divorce followed by remarriage is wrong. The abortionist may have very pure intentions of helping the pregnant 14-year-old out of a very difficult situation, but that doesn’t automatically transmute his sin into goodness, although it may mitigate the consequences to his soul. (Again, I am not comparing the gravity of any of the sins I use in my analogies to the use of IVF or to divorce and remarriage.)

At one point you say, “I think that ultimately we, as Catholics, must follow our conscience and honestly follow our own moral judgments.” That is fine, but my conscience is not something that was handed to me fully formed. I had to be taught how to be honest and how to treat my sisters, among many other things. And my conscience isn’t something that comes out of my childhood exclusively. You and Mother were and are important models for me in various ways, but I’ve also parted from both of you on certain issues – and in some ways you have both parted from me, in that things you once taught me you have decided you no longer believe are important. My conscience also comes from the teaching of our Church, from my prayer, from Scripture, from my experiences and my conversations. Sometimes it’s confused or undecided (for instance, about the doctrine of Mutual Assured Destruction from the Cold War). Our conscience is something that we are supposed to follow, but if my conscience includes the idea that my Church has the power to “loose and bind” on earth and in heaven, then it may not matter what I think of the actual teaching, especially if my thoughts on it are at neutral – i.e. if I am about where I am, in terms of having a sympathy for but not a fully-formed understanding of the teaching I am trying to uphold.

The next section of the letter discusses change in the Church, and may be the weakest portion yet of the letter, as my education in theology and Church history is poor.