First Thoughts on IVF, Part III

What follows is the weakest part of my letter to my father, the part where I try to refute his claim that Church teaching has changed, as opposed to "developed" (a technical term meaning, off the top of my head, "to change in such a way that the new belief does not contradict but merely refines the earlier belief into a deeper understanding of what God intended than before") through history. I am not nearly educated enough, and Newman's An Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine did not help me particularly when I read it this past summer (but after I wrote the letter). That may be because I am dense enough to always require a second reading of Newman before I quite get him - he is known as a prose stylist, but I have always found his prose, how to say this, uneventful, which may be the point of those who praise it. Anyway, if you are in the mood to comment, feel free to tell me how I'm wrong.

Regarding the ways in which Church teaching has changed, I am not educated enough to say I am refuting your claims, because I don’t know for sure. I’ll merely tell you the way I understand them, and could be wrong about them. First, I don’t think the morality of the Crusades as such has been disputed. I think that the Church has apologized for any atrocities and wrongs committed by those undertaking the wars, not the wars themselves. Regarding limbo and the necessity of baptism to get to heaven, the latest Catechism makes the following statements:

“Born with a fallen human nature and tainted by original sin, children also have need of the new birth in Baptism to be freed from the power of darkness and brought into the realm of the freedom of the children of God” (§1250).

Original sin: “a deprivation of original holiness and justice, but human nature has not been totally corrupted; it is wounded in the natural powers proper to it” (§405).

“Original sin entails ‘captivity under the power of him who thenceforth had the power of death, that is, the devil’” (§407).

More to the point, it still quotes the teaching from the Council of Trent: “Baptism is necessary for salvation for those who have not yet been reborn” (§980). I was interested in this issue awhile ago, while I was teaching the Inferno, and my research, while not exhaustive, talked about Limbo (which, you are right, does not seem to be mentioned in the Catechism) as essentially a theory, i.e., a potential way of accounting for the fate of unbaptized infants, which is not accounted for in Scripture or tradition. The way Dante has Virgil describe Limbo, which corresponded with what I read in my research, was as a place without punishment, but with the infinitely sad knowledge that one cannot be with God. The research I did also suggested that this teaching was not final, insofar as it has been stated that one needs Baptism to be saved, but no one has ever stated the converse: that a lack of Baptism condemns one to hell. Nor has anyone ever stated that God will not find another, unrevealed, way of solving this problem. In other words, Revelation and tradition require us to confess we don’t know exactly what happens to the unbaptized, but also leaves a space that allows us to consider the theory of Limbo, and to hope and pray that whatever limbo (small “L”) that the unbaptized appear to end up in has already or eventually will be destroyed by the mercy and saving power of God. This knowledge was probably obtained by reading online the Catholic Encyclopedia (at NewAdvent.org), which was written around 100 years ago, so this is not a post Vatican II change, as far as I can tell.

The celibate priesthood is a matter of policy, not truth, and that has been known since it was first mandated in the 1000’s. That has changed, and could change again, but that would not change the teachings of the Church on marriage and virginity, which say that the first is a sacrament while the second is a mandated state for the unmarried, and a special state for those who accept it as part of their vocation.

I don’t know much about the Galileo situation, but the position of the Earth in the cosmos is not an issue of faith and morals, nor does it impact our definition of God. The little I have read defending the Church on this issue claims that the situation was more a battle among scientists who used the political power of the Church to ruin a smarter competitor. I would have to learn more about it, though.

I remember reading a quotation from that Cardinal who talked about the use of condoms. I don’t believe he said it would not be wrong; he said it might be considered less wrong than, for instance, letting one’s marriage fall apart over a lack of sex forced by the husband going and getting himself a case of AIDS from a prostitute. Of course, the sin that may result in the marriage falling apart would be his adultery, plus whatever lack of forgiveness led in the end to divorce, not the choice not to have sex. So I think the Cardinal is wrong, and one Cardinal does not a Magisterium make. There are Church priests and theologians, many, no doubt, men who love God, who have taught what the Church has condemned as wrong, even if they’ve taught many other things in line with the teachings of the Church.

I think you are right to say, “the manner in which the Church has come to decisions about moral teachings has changed over the centuries.” This is one of those areas that would probably be defined as “development,” rather than change. I think the definition of development is that which refines or enlarges the understanding of an earlier judgment by the Church, rather than that which changes an earlier judgment. (Newman wrote a book I own but have not read that is about this subject.) Those who defend the primacy of the Pope obviously use the teaching from the Gospel read in the last few weeks (it was a weekday – I went the next morning after a fairly emotional conversation with my wife the night before) about Jesus founding his Church on Peter his Rock, and how he gave to Peter “the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven,” and told him that “whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven” (Matthew 16:19). Without knowing the specifics, I do know that the argument is made that even in the early, largely unrecorded days, between the Acts of the Apostles and the first councils of the Church, that other bishops would often apply to the bishop of Rome to settle debates. I don’t know if this is settled history or not.

Is it possible that the Church that Jesus instituted is prey to the same problems as the church that had Him killed? Perhaps in some ways, but remember a couple of things: that Jesus established this Church, that he gave to Peter and the apostles the powers described above, that he promised the guidance of the Holy Spirit (who, for instance, helped humans to decide what counted as Scripture, and what did not). Why would Jesus establish a Church prey to the same problems as the one he left behind? Jesus did not change human nature, and so I understand that just as there were sinful Pharisees and Sanhedrin, so have there been sinful Popes, Bishops, and Priests. And just as the institution of the Temple permitted wrongs, so too has the Church of Christ bowed to temporal powers, such as in allowing the practice of granting indulgences in return for sacrifices made to become a business – a repetition of the money-lenders in the Temple, in a way. But Jesus did leave us a new world. The Church teaching on indulgences was not inherently flawed: the sacrifice of money is praised by Jesus when he tells the disciples to observe the little old lady giving her last pence to the poor box. As you no doubt know from your economics classes and your professional life, money is simply a symbol of our labors, a way of transforming them into goods they do not directly produce, so that sacrifice of money is sacrifice of labor. The actions of many individuals within the Church, like bishops who wanted to build a new church to attract tourists, or friars who wanted an easy life instead of the hard, trudging, begging life of poverty and prayer preached by St. Francis, took advantage of this. Irish folk-tales tell of credulous peasants afraid the parish priest will turn them into rabbits if they fail to do what he tells them. Abuses, obviously, but not perpetrated by the Magisterium, by the teaching ability of the Church.

This I don’t understand: you describe what led to your second marriage, what the Church has to say about it, and say: “I understand the reasons for Church rules in this matter; as a matter of fact, I agree with them. However I do not believe I have committed a sin.” I can’t figure that out, Dad. You agree with the Church’s teaching, but you don’t think it applies to you? The teaching does not exist because some people might take advantage of easier rules on divorce (which I know you did not). It exists because the action is held to be inherently wrong. What you say here is probably true (certainly you are a better judge than I): “My marriage to my second wife is more perfect and a more spiritual union that I ever did have with your mother. In sum, I seriously considered the rules and teachings of the church, and then made my own decision to disregard Church rules.” Then you say, “I consider myself to be a good Catholic.” Please do not be angry at me for saying this, but this is what I think will be the case for me: if I change what my mind has been so far and decide it is moral for me to use IVF with my wife, I will not be able to say that. I will be able to say “I consider myself to be a good person,” and maybe even, “I consider myself to be a good Christian,” but I think I will have separated myself somewhat by disagreeing with the teaching of the Church, and my definition of “good Christian” will be thenceforth different from my definition of “good Catholic.” Right now I believe that Catholicism is the most perfect (not totally perfect, because nothing short of heaven ever will be) manifestation of the faith taught to us by Christ, and that “good Catholic” is synonymous with “good Christian.” Perhaps I am wrong about this.

I don’t think the Church has lost its compassion. Jesus himself advocates excommunication, which is today seen as very uncompassionate. In Matthew 18 he says, “If a member of the church [my Bible mentions that this is also translated, “If your brother …”] sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone.” Eventually, if the member does not listen, he tells them to bring it to the church [here there is no alternative translation offered for the word], “and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector” (18:15-7). If, like Dostoevsky’s Grand Inquisitor, the Church forebears to teach the Word of God, whether that is discerned through Scripture, tradition, or reason, the church is not being compassionate, because it is allowing us to be separated from God. The example of Jesus and the martyrs shows us that ease of practice is not a necessary quality of Christian morality (nor, obviously, is it excluded as a quality of Christian morality).

The next section will finally get into addressing the question of IVF directly, now that I have gotten to the part of my letter to my father where he does so. All of what came previously were my attempts to address the earlier points he was making to prepare the ground for his main argument: opposing my refusal to participate in In Vitro Fertilization with my wife.