Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Have I changed my mind about torture? Originally I thought it was unjust. But now it seems that there are arguments for inflicting pain to punish disobedience and to force compliance. So I haven't changed my mind about acts that inflict pain or directly attack the health of his body and are not meant as punishment--these are always unjust and therefore intrinsically evil. But acts that are intended as punishment? These seem to be morally good, at least with respect to the object. Other considerations, like the circumstances of the act, may make them imprudent or even evil.
The formal object can be tricky to understand...
Some things for me to work out:
If I hold a lit match up to the fuse of a stick of dynamite in order to light the fuse, lighting the fuse is part of the formality of my action, even though I do not bring this about except by means of the lit match. I cannot say that it is the match which is responsible for the lighting of the fuse.
Similarly, if I torture someone in order to get information, I do it precisely to induce them to act in a certain way, even though they are free to refuse, unlike the fuse of the stick of dynamite, which will always light, provided that nothing interferes with the action of the fire. Getting them to talk seems to be part of the formal object, since it is an intended result or consequence of my action.
One may ask how it is possible to separate consequences in one's intent -- for example, how does the principle of double-effect work? How is it possible that I can use deadly force, even lethal means, to defend myself, without intending the death of the assailant? Can I intend to stop the assailant with something that could possibly kill him, without wanting him to die?
The formal object can be tricky to understand...
Some things for me to work out:
If I hold a lit match up to the fuse of a stick of dynamite in order to light the fuse, lighting the fuse is part of the formality of my action, even though I do not bring this about except by means of the lit match. I cannot say that it is the match which is responsible for the lighting of the fuse.
Similarly, if I torture someone in order to get information, I do it precisely to induce them to act in a certain way, even though they are free to refuse, unlike the fuse of the stick of dynamite, which will always light, provided that nothing interferes with the action of the fire. Getting them to talk seems to be part of the formal object, since it is an intended result or consequence of my action.
One may ask how it is possible to separate consequences in one's intent -- for example, how does the principle of double-effect work? How is it possible that I can use deadly force, even lethal means, to defend myself, without intending the death of the assailant? Can I intend to stop the assailant with something that could possibly kill him, without wanting him to die?
Monday, May 04, 2009
Papal Address to Social Sciences Academy
Papal Address to Social Sciences Academy
"Natural Law Is a Universal Guide Recognizable to Everyone"
VATICAN CITY, MAY 4, 2009 (Zenit.org).- Here is the text of the English-language address Benedict XVI gave today to the members of the Pontifical Academy of Social Sciences. The members of the academy are gathered in the Vatican through Tuesday for their plenary session, which is focused on Catholic social doctrine and human rights.
* * *
Dear Brothers in the Episcopate and the Priesthood,
Distinguished Ladies and Gentlemen,
As you gather for the fifteenth Plenary Session of the Pontifical Academy of Social Sciences, I am pleased to have this occasion to meet with you and to express my encouragement for your mission of expounding and furthering the Church's social doctrine in the areas of law, economy, politics and the various other social sciences. Thanking Professor Mary Ann Glendon for her cordial words of greeting, I assure you of my prayers that the fruit of your deliberations will continue to attest to the enduring pertinence of Catholic social teaching in a rapidly changing world.
After studying work, democracy, globalisation, solidarity and subsidiarity in relation to the social teaching of the Church, your Academy has chosen to return to the central question of the dignity of the human person and human rights, a point of encounter between the doctrine of the Church and contemporary society.
The world's great religions and philosophies have illuminated some aspects of these human rights, which are concisely expressed in "the golden rule" found in the Gospel: "Do to others as you would have them do to you" (Lk 6:31; cf. Mt 7:12). The Church has always affirmed that fundamental rights, above and beyond the different ways in which they are formulated and the different degrees of importance they may have in various cultural contexts, are to be upheld and accorded universal recognition because they are inherent in the very nature of man, who is created in the image and likeness of God. If all human beings are created in the image and likeness of God, then they share a common nature that binds them together and calls for universal respect. The Church, assimilating the teaching of Christ, considers the person as "the worthiest of nature" (St. Thomas Aquinas, De potentia, 9, 3) and has taught that the ethical and political order that governs relationships between persons finds its origin in the very structure of man's being. The discovery of America and the ensuing anthropological debate in sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Europe led to a heightened awareness of human rights as such and of their universality (ius gentium). The modern period helped shape the idea that the message of Christ - because it proclaims that God loves every man and woman and that every human being is called to love God freely - demonstrates that everyone, independently of his or her social and cultural condition, by nature deserves freedom. At the same time, we must always remember that "freedom itself needs to be set free. It is Christ who sets it free" (Veritatis Splendor, 86).
In the middle of the last century, after the vast suffering caused by two terrible world wars and the unspeakable crimes perpetrated by totalitarian ideologies, the international community acquired a new system of international law based on human rights. In this, it appears to have acted in conformity with the message that my predecessor Benedict XV proclaimed when he called on the belligerents of the First World War to "transform the material force of arms into the moral force of law" ("Note to the Heads of the Belligerent Peoples", 1 August 1917).
Human rights became the reference point of a shared universal ethos - at least at the level of aspiration - for most of humankind. These rights have been ratified by almost every State in the world. The Second Vatican Council, in the Declaration Dignitatis Humanae, as well as my predecessors Paul VI and John Paul II, forcefully referred to the right to life and the right to freedom of conscience and religion as being at the centre of those rights that spring from human nature itself.
Strictly speaking, these human rights are not truths of faith, even though they are discoverable - and indeed come to full light - in the message of Christ who "reveals man to man himself" (Gaudium et Spes, 22). They receive further confirmation from faith. Yet it stands to reason that, living and acting in the physical world as spiritual beings, men and women ascertain the pervading presence of a logos which enables them to distinguish not only between true and false, but also good and evil, better and worse, and justice and injustice. This ability to discern - this radical agency - renders every person capable of grasping the "natural law", which is nothing other than a participation in the eternal law: "unde...lex naturalis nihil aliud est quam participatio legis aeternae in rationali creatura" (St. Thomas Aquinas, ST I-II, 91, 2). The natural law is a universal guide recognizable to everyone, on the basis of which all people can reciprocally understand and love each other. Human rights, therefore, are ultimately rooted in a participation of God, who has created each human person with intelligence and freedom. If this solid ethical and political basis is ignored, human rights remain fragile since they are deprived of their sound foundation.
The Church's action in promoting human rights is therefore supported by rational reflection, in such a way that these rights can be presented to all people of good will, independently of any religious affiliation they may have. Nevertheless, as I have observed in my Encyclicals, on the one hand, human reason must undergo constant purification by faith, insofar as it is always in danger of a certain ethical blindness caused by disordered passions and sin; and, on the other hand, insofar as human rights need to be re-appropriated by every generation and by each individual, and insofar as human freedom - which proceeds by a succession of free choices - is always fragile, the human person needs the unconditional hope and love that can only be found in God and that lead to participation in the justice and generosity of God towards others (cf. Deus Caritas Est, 18, and Spe Salvi, 24).
This perspective draws attention to some of the most critical social problems of recent decades, such as the growing awareness - which has in part arisen with globalisation and the present economic crisis - of a flagrant contrast between the equal attribution of rights and the unequal access to the means of attaining those rights. For Christians who regularly ask God to "give us this day our daily bread", it is a shameful tragedy that one-fifth of humanity still goes hungry. Assuring an adequate food supply, like the protection of vital resources such as water and energy, requires all international leaders to collaborate in showing a readiness to work in good faith, respecting the natural law and promoting solidarity and subsidiarity with the weakest regions and peoples of the planet as the most effective strategy for eliminating social inequalities between countries and societies and for increasing global security.
Dear friends, dear Academicians, in exhorting you in your research and deliberations to be credible and consistent witnesses to the defence and promotion of these non-negotiable human rights which are founded in divine law, I most willingly impart to you my Apostolic Blessing.
Mary Ann Glendon's Address to Benedict XVI
"Our Central Focus Has Always Been on the Dignity of the Human Person"
Labels:
Benedict XVI,
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Edward Feser, “It’s just so obvious!”: The case of torture
With respect to the use of torture in judicial proceedings -- the confession that would be extracted is not the same as self-incrimination, since it is not being used for to then indict or prosecute the suspect, but is part of the judicial proceeding itself, as a final step.
In the past, the use of torture was permitted by secular and Church authorities to extract a confession, but only within certain guidelines. Can the accused be compelled to speak the truth about his doing of evil? But how can his statement or confession be verified, unless there is corroborating evidence? A confession is for the sake of thoroughness, after sufficient evidence has been gathered to render judgment -- but if that is the case, why is confession necessary? If not enough evidence has been produced for a conviction, by what right can a judge attempt to extract a confession? In this case, the confession is necessary in order to secure a conviction.
Torture is used if someone is denying his guilt, but there is circumstantial evidence implicating him? What is the justification for this? It is not in the case of using torture on someone who is refusing to reveal the truth about an impending attack. In that case, torture may be understood as a punishment for each act of refusal, which is then followed by an opportunity to obey. (But one must have sufficient evidence that he is lying or concealing this information.)
In the case of confession, he is not disobeying, he is only suspected of lying. So torture is not being used as punishment, but as a way of compelling someone to tell the truth. Is the use of force, infliction of pain or bodily harm, justifiable in order to coerce testimony? But he is already giving testimony. What one wants is some sort of certain that he is telling the truth.
But perhaps the two instances in which torture is used are more similar than I think. After all, in both cases the one being tortured is suspected of lying when he denies, or refusing to tell the truth that he knows.
St. Thomas does not speak about the use of torture, as far as I know. He does say that the accused may not lie to protect himself from being convicted and punished (but he is not bound to satisfy the judge's request if it is no in accordance with the order of justice): Is it a mortal sin to deny the truth which would lead to one's condemnation?
[I just remembered that during hearings and trials those who do not answer the court's questions, can be held in contempt of court, and put in jail. If the information is vital to the common good, could more severe punishments not be given?]
With respect to the use of torture in judicial proceedings -- the confession that would be extracted is not the same as self-incrimination, since it is not being used for to then indict or prosecute the suspect, but is part of the judicial proceeding itself, as a final step.
In the past, the use of torture was permitted by secular and Church authorities to extract a confession, but only within certain guidelines. Can the accused be compelled to speak the truth about his doing of evil? But how can his statement or confession be verified, unless there is corroborating evidence? A confession is for the sake of thoroughness, after sufficient evidence has been gathered to render judgment -- but if that is the case, why is confession necessary? If not enough evidence has been produced for a conviction, by what right can a judge attempt to extract a confession? In this case, the confession is necessary in order to secure a conviction.
Torture is used if someone is denying his guilt, but there is circumstantial evidence implicating him? What is the justification for this? It is not in the case of using torture on someone who is refusing to reveal the truth about an impending attack. In that case, torture may be understood as a punishment for each act of refusal, which is then followed by an opportunity to obey. (But one must have sufficient evidence that he is lying or concealing this information.)
In the case of confession, he is not disobeying, he is only suspected of lying. So torture is not being used as punishment, but as a way of compelling someone to tell the truth. Is the use of force, infliction of pain or bodily harm, justifiable in order to coerce testimony? But he is already giving testimony. What one wants is some sort of certain that he is telling the truth.
But perhaps the two instances in which torture is used are more similar than I think. After all, in both cases the one being tortured is suspected of lying when he denies, or refusing to tell the truth that he knows.
St. Thomas does not speak about the use of torture, as far as I know. He does say that the accused may not lie to protect himself from being convicted and punished (but he is not bound to satisfy the judge's request if it is no in accordance with the order of justice): Is it a mortal sin to deny the truth which would lead to one's condemnation?
[I just remembered that during hearings and trials those who do not answer the court's questions, can be held in contempt of court, and put in jail. If the information is vital to the common good, could more severe punishments not be given?]
Sunday, May 03, 2009
More thoughts on torture
Can the state compel someone to reveal information that it suspects he has? If it can establish that this person has this information, and he refuses to provide it, could he not be punished for disobedience? And could continued non-compliance be answered with continued punishment? If torture is not just a means of compelling someone to reveal information, but a form of punishment, could it not then be justified?
But how would the state establish (beyond reasonable doubt?) that this person had the information? Would it not have to try him first, and then find him to be disobedient? Can someone be ordered to tell something that he knows, if this is for the safety of the public, or the "common good"?
The use of torture to establish that someone has information would not be justified since it is not punishment--this must be established by other means (witnesses and other evidence).
Already police officers can use pain and force to make someone who is resisting (actively or passively) comply with their orders, or at the very least to get them to stop resisting. Is this torture? Even though they do not have the authority to pass legal judgment upon them, it would seem that they can use force and inflict pain. Is this to be considered punishment? Or justified coercion?
There is also this point to be remembered: it is easier to verify that one is moving one's limbs (or not moving them) than it is to verify that someone is telling the truth, if he is the only one who knows whether what he is saying is true or not.
But how would the state establish (beyond reasonable doubt?) that this person had the information? Would it not have to try him first, and then find him to be disobedient? Can someone be ordered to tell something that he knows, if this is for the safety of the public, or the "common good"?
The use of torture to establish that someone has information would not be justified since it is not punishment--this must be established by other means (witnesses and other evidence).
Already police officers can use pain and force to make someone who is resisting (actively or passively) comply with their orders, or at the very least to get them to stop resisting. Is this torture? Even though they do not have the authority to pass legal judgment upon them, it would seem that they can use force and inflict pain. Is this to be considered punishment? Or justified coercion?
There is also this point to be remembered: it is easier to verify that one is moving one's limbs (or not moving them) than it is to verify that someone is telling the truth, if he is the only one who knows whether what he is saying is true or not.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
The Church’s Bible By R.R. Reno (includes a reference to The Church's Bible, edited by Robert Louis Wilken)
Friday, May 01, 2009
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Sandro Magister, What the Bible Never Said
A major exhibition dedicated to the apocryphal books – the stories and characters not included in the canonical Scriptures. Not to invalidate the Gospels and the Church, but to bring them closer to us
A major exhibition dedicated to the apocryphal books – the stories and characters not included in the canonical Scriptures. Not to invalidate the Gospels and the Church, but to bring them closer to us
NLM: Confessing the Messiah: The Church's Confession of Christ in Jewish-Christian Dialogue - Bishop Müller's Statement Pt. II by Gregor Kollmorgen
Hence those people can be saved and attain final communion with God who through no fault of their own lack belief in Jesus Christ, indeed under certain circumstances even lack belief in the existence of a personal God as creator and consummator, but not – and this is decisive – without the grace of Christ working invisibly within them.This seems possible, but how likely is it to happen in reality? I believe there was a theological opinion that while an explicit belief in Christ was not necessary, sort sort of belief in God was required. If one is thinking about being in the state of grace alone, and without mortal sin, it seems as it is possible to be saved and yet not have belief, so long as one did not deliberately reject the gift of faith. And yet, how can that person's life be rightly ordered, if it is not ordered to God, and how can it be ordered to God, if that person does not believe in the existence of God? Perhaps if one does the good out of duty alone, and this is not ordered to self-fulfillment, but to some good outside of himself.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Pope's Letter for St. Anselm Celebration
Pope's Letter for St. Anselm Celebration
"One of the Brightest Figures in the Tradition of the Church"
AOSTA, Italy, APRIL 28, 2009 (Zenit.org).- Here is the text of the letter Benedict XVI sent to Cardinal Giacomo Biffi, retired archbishop of Bologna, on the occasion of the ninth centenary of the death of St. Anselm. The message was read April 21, the saint's feast day, at a solemn Mass in the Aosta cathedral in honor of the philosopher and theologian.
* * *
In view of the celebrations in which you, venerable brother, will take part as my legate in the illustrious city of Aosta in honor of the ninth centenary of the death of St. Anselm, which took place in Canterbury on 21 April 1109, I would like to give you a special message in which I wish recall the main features of this great monk, theologian and pastor of souls, whose work has left a deep mark on the history of the Church.
The anniversary is indeed an opportunity not to be missed to renew the memory of one of the brightest figures in the tradition of the Church and in the history of Western European thought. The exemplary monastic experience of Anselm, his original method of rethinking the Christian mystery, his subtle philosophical and theological doctrine, his teaching on the inviolable value of conscience and on freedom as the responsible adherence to truth and goodness, his passionate work as a shepherd of souls, dedicated with all his strength to the promotion of "freedom of the Church," have never ceased to arouse in the past the deepest interest, which the memory of his death is happily reigniting and encouraging in many ways and in different places.
In this memorial of the "Magnificent Doctor" -- as St. Anselm is called -- the Church of Aosta cannot but be recognized, the Church in which he was born and which is rightly pleased to consider Anselm as her most illustrious son. Even when he left Aosta in the time of his youth, he continued to carry in his memory and in his heart the bundle of memories that was never far from his thoughts in the most important moments of life. Among those memories, a particular place was certainly reserved for the sweet image of his mother and the majestic mountains of his valley with their high peaks, and perennial snow, in which he saw represented, as if in a fascinating and suggestive symbol, the sublimity of God. To Anselm - "a child raised in the mountains," as Admero his biographer calls him, ("Vita Sancti Anselmi," i, 2) - God appears to be that of which you cannot think of something bigger: perhaps his intuition was not unrelated to the childhood view of those inaccessible peaks. Already as a child he thought that in order to find God it was necessary to "climb to the summit of the mountain" (ibid.). In fact, he will realize more and more that God remains at an inaccessible height, located beyond the horizons which man is able to reach, since God is beyond the thinkable. Because of this, the journey in search of God, at least on this earth, will never end, but will always be thought and desire, the rigorous process of the intellect and the imploring inquiry of the heart.
The intense desire to know and the innate propensity for clarity and logical rigor will push Anselm towards the "scholeae" [schools] of his time. He will therefore join the monastery of Le Bec, where his inclination for dialectic reflection will be satisfied and above all, where his cloistered vocation will enkindle. To dwell on the years of the monastic life of Anselm is to encounter a faithful religious, "constantly occupied in God alone and in the disciplines of heaven" -- as his biographer writes -- in order to achieve "such a summit of divine speculation that would enable him by a path opened by God to penetrate, and, once penetrated, to explain the most obscure and previously unresolved questions concerning the divinity of God and our faith and to prove with clear reasons that what he stated belonged to sure Catholic doctrine" ("Vita Sancti Anselmi," i, 7). With these words, his biographer describes the theological method of St. Anselm, whose thought was ignited and illuminated in prayer. It is he himself that confesses, in his famous work, that the understanding of faith is an approach toward a vision, which we all yearn for and which we all hope to enjoy at the end of our earthly pilgrimage, "Quoniam inter fidem et speciem intellectum quem in hac vita capimus esse medium intelligo: quanto aliquis ad illum proficit, tanto eum propinquare speciei, ad quam omnes anhelamus, existimo (Cur Deus homo, Commendatio).
The saint desired to achieve the vision of the logical relationships inherent to the mystery, to perceive the "clarity of truth," and thus to grasp the evidence of the "necessary reasons," intimately bound to the mystery. A bold plan certainly, and it is one whose success still occupies the reflections of the students of Anselm today. In fact, his search of the "intellectus" [intellect] positioned between "fides" [faith] and "species" [vision] comes out of the source of the same faith and is sustained by confidence in reason, through which faith in a certain way is illuminated. The intent of Anselm is clear: "to raise the mind to contemplation of God" (Proslogion, Proemium). There remain, in any event, for every theological research, his programmatic words: "I do not try, Lord, to penetrate your depth, because I cannot, even from a distance, compare it with my intellect, but I want to understand, at least up to a certain point, your truth, which my heart believes and loves. I do not seek, in fact, to try to understand it in order to believe it, but I believe in order to understand it."[Non quaero intelligere ut credam, sed credo ut intelligam] (Proslogion, 1).
In Anselm, prior and abbot of Le Bec, we underline some characteristics that further define his personal profile. What strikes us, first of all, is his charism as an expert teacher of spiritual life, one who knows and wisely illustrates the ways of monastic perfection. At the same time, one is fascinated by his instructive geniality, which is expressed in that discernment method -- which he names, the "via discretionis" (Ep. 61) -- which is a small image of his whole life, an image composed of both mercy and firmness. The peculiar ability which he demonstrates in initiating disciples to the experience of authentic prayer is very peculiar: in particular, his "Orationes sive Meditationes," eagerly requested and widely used, which have contributed to making many people of his time " anime oranti" [praying souls], as with his other works, have proved themselves a valuable catalyst in making the Middle Ages a "thinking" and, we might add, "conscientious" period. One would say that the most authentic Anselm can be found at Le Bec, where he remained thirty three years, and where he was much loved. Thanks to the maturity that he acquired in a similar environment of reflection and prayer, he will be able, as well in the midst of the subsequent trials as bishop, to declare: "I will not retain in my heart any resentment for any one" (Ep. 321).
The nostalgia of the monastery will accompany him for the rest of his life. He confessed it himself when he was constrained, to his deepest sorrow and that of his monks, to leave the monastery to assume the Episcopal ministry to which did not feel well disposed: "It is well known to many," he wrote to Pope Urban II, "the violence which was done to me, and how much I was reluctant and contrary, when I was brought as a bishop to England and how I explained the reasons of nature, age, weakness and ignorance, which were opposed to this office and that absolutely detest and shun scholastic duties, which I cannot dedicate myself to at all without endangering the salvation of my soul" (Ep. 206). He confides later with his monks in these terms: "I have lived for 33 years a monk -- three years without responsibility, 15 as prior, and as many as abbot -- in such a way that all the good people that knew me loved me, certainly not by my own merits but for the grace of God, and the ones that loved me most were those that knew me most intimately and with greatest familiarity" (Ep. 156). And he added: "You have been many to come to Le Bec ... Many of you I surrounded with a love so tender and sweet that each one had the impression that I did not love anyone else in the same way" (ibid.).
Appointed Archbishop of Canterbury and beginning, in this way, his most troubled journey, his "love of truth" (Ep. 327), his uprightness, his strict loyalty to conscience, his "Episcopal freedom" (Ep. 206), his " Episcopal honesty" (Ep. 314), his tireless work for the liberation of the Church from the temporal conditionings and from the servitude of calculations that are incompatible with his spiritual nature will appear in their full light. His words to King Henry remain exemplary in this respect, "I reply that in neither baptism nor in any other ordination that I have received, did I promised to observe the law or the custom of your father or of the Archbishop Lanfranco, but the law of God and of all the orders received" (Ep. 319). For Anselm, the primate of the Church of England, one principle applies: "I am a Christian, I am a monk, I am a Bishop: I desire to be faithful to all, according to the debt I have with each" (Ep. 314). In this vein he does not hesitate to say: "I prefer to be in disagreement with men than, agreeing with them, to be in disagreement with God" (Ep. 314). Precisely for this reason he feels ready even for the supreme sacrifice: "I am not afraid to shed my blood, I fear no wound in my body nor the loss of any material good" (Ep. 311).
It is understandable that, for all these reasons, Anselm still retains a great actuality and a strong appeal, in as much as it is fruitful to revisit and republish his writings, and together meditate continuously on his life. For this reason I have rejoiced that Aosta, on the occasion of the ninth centenary of the death of the saint, has distinguished itself with a set of appropriate and intelligent initiatives -- especially with the careful edition of his works -- with the intention to make known and loved the teachings and examples of this, its illustrious son. I entrust to you, Venerable Brother, the task of bringing to the faithful of the ancient and beloved city of Aosta the exhortation to remember with admiration and affection this great fellow citizen of theirs, whose light continues to shine throughout the Church, especially where the love for the truths of faith and the desire for their study by the light of reason are cultivated. And, in fact, faith and reason -- "fides et ratio" -- are united admirably in Anselm. I send, with these heartfelt sentiments through you, venerable brother, to the Bishop, Monsignor Giuseppe Anfossi, the clergy, the religious and the faithful of Aosta and to all those who take part in the celebrations in honor of the "Magnificent Doctor," a special apostolic blessing, propitiatory of an abundant outpouring of heavenly favors.
[Translation by Matthew Pollock]
Fr. Georges Florovsky
A favorite of my GOARCH friend, noted for his neo-patristic synthesis. My friend would have liked access to this: Georges Florovsky Papers, 1916-1979 (bulk 1950s-1960s).
Some photos.
the collected works of fr georges florovsky
Georges Florovsky - OrthodoxWiki
Archpriest Georges Florovsky (pdf)
St Vladimir's Orthodox Theological Seminary - Archpriest Georges Florovsky
Protopresybter Georges Florovsky
Father George Florovsky and the Patristic Mindset
THE PROBLEM OF. DIACONATE IN THE ORTHODOX CHURCH.
Related:
Protopresbyter Alexander Schmemann
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Torture: What it is, and Why it is Wrong by Christopher O. Tollefsen (via The American Papist)
An offense against personal dignity (or charity) rather than an offense against justice?
Do we say that justice is a separate end, which justifies the inflicting of pain or bodily harm? (It might seem like a form of consequentialism.) Or do we say it is a part of the formality of the act itself?
An offense against personal dignity (or charity) rather than an offense against justice?
I begin with the following normative claim: human life and health is an intrinsic, and indeed, a basic, human good. That is to say, life and health constitute a fundamental aspect of human well-being; the possibility of the promotion of either provides not just a possibility but an opportunity, an offer of benefit. And the possibility of damage or destruction of either provides not just a possibility, but an evil to be avoided and, insofar as such damage or destruction is willed, a wrong not to be done. The normative principle that can be drawn from this practical truth is that in willing, one should never intend the damage or destruction of the life or health of another human being.How does he get around the exceptions? They are effects which are praeter intentionem, or if intended directly, it is subsumed under a higher end, that of justice. (I don't think he is supporting mercy killing, but is using it as an example to show how harm to the body is directly intended through a 'higher' end.) It seems to me that the NNL Theorists would more than likely offer a similar account of why torture is wrong.
This principle is compatible with acts that will, in fact, damage or destroy human life: the use of force in self-defense, the decay of the body brought about by intense study, or the possibility of ill health consequent upon incarceration as punishment for one’s crimes. For none of these forms of damage need be intended; they are, if willed appropriately, willed only as side effects of some other reasonable activity. By contrast, the destruction of human life in, for example, mercy killing or capital punishment, is intended—willed in each case as a means to some further end: cessation of suffering or justice.
Do we say that justice is a separate end, which justifies the inflicting of pain or bodily harm? (It might seem like a form of consequentialism.) Or do we say it is a part of the formality of the act itself?
Monday, April 27, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Asia News: Pope: the Bible must be interpreted within the magisterium of the Church (via The Western Confucian)
Benedict XVI recalled that Leo XIII, Pius XII, and Vatican II reiterated in a variety of ways that "Holy mother Church, relying on the belief of the Apostles, holds that the books of both the Old and New Testaments in their entirety, with all their parts, are sacred and canonical because written under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, they have God as their author and have been handed on as such to the Church herself" (Dei Verbum, 11).
This correct approach to the concept of the divine inspiration and truth of Holy Scripture leads to norms that directly concern its interpretation. "In this regard," the pope recalled, "Vatican Council II indicates three criteria that are always valid for an interpretation of Sacred Scripture in keeping with the Spirit who inspired it. First of all, one must pay great attention to the content and unity of all the Scripture. In fact, as different as the books making it up may be, Sacred Scripture is one by virtue of the unity of God's plan, of which Jesus Christ is the center and heart (cf. Lk. 24:25-27; Lk. 24:44-46). In the second place, one must read Scripture in the context of the living tradition of the whole Church. According to a saying of the Fathers, "Sacra Scriptura principalius est in corde Ecclesiae quam in materialibus instrumentis scripta," "Sacred Scripture is written in the heart of the Church before it is written on material instruments." In fact, the Church carries within its Tradition the living memory of the Word of God, and it is the Holy Spirit who gives it the interpretation of this, according to its spiritual meaning (cf. Origen, Homiliae in Leviticum, 5,5). As the third criterion, it is necessary to pay attention to the analogy of faith, or to the cohesion of the individual truths of faith among one another and with the overall plan of Revelation and the fullness of the divine economy contained within it."
The task of researchers studying the Sacred Scripture by various means, then,"is that of contributing according to the aforementioned principles to a deeper understanding and exposition of the meaning of Sacred Scripture. Scientific study of the sacred texts is not sufficient by itself. In order to respect the coherence of the faith of the Church, the Catholic exegete must be attentive to viewing the Word of God in these texts from the perspective of the Church's faith. In the absence of this indispensable point of reference, exegetical research remains incomplete, losing sight of its main purpose, with the danger of becoming a sort of mere intellectual exercise. The interpretation of the sacred Scriptures cannot be only an individual scientific effort, but must always be situated, inserted, and authenticated by the living tradition of the Church. This norm is decisive for clarifying the correct and reciprocal relationship between exegesis and the Magisterium of the Church.
"The texts inspired by God have been entrusted to the community of believers, to the Church of Christ, in order to nourish faith and guide the life of charity. Respect for this purpose influences the validity and efficacy of Biblical hermeneutics. The encyclical Providentissimus Deus recalled this fundamental truth, and observed that, far from obstructing Biblical research, respect for this fact fosters its authentic progress."
In conclusion, "only the ecclesial context permits sacred Scripture to be understood as the authentic Word of God, the guide, norm, and rule for the life of the Church and the spiritual growth of believers. This involves the rejection of any interpretation that is subjective for simply limited to analysis alone, which is incapable of containing the overall meaning that over the course of the centuries has guided the Tradition of the entire people of God."
Holy See on Racism
"Without a Change of Heart, Laws Are Not Effective"
"Without a Change of Heart, Laws Are Not Effective"
In all its manifestations, racism makes the false claim that some human beings have less dignity and value than others; it thus infringes upon their fundamental equality as God's children and it leads to the violation of the human rights of individuals and of entire groups of persons.This equality is proper to the ratio of charity, not to that of justice--and yet, the prohibition of certain actions falls under the virtue of justice, and not just charity. Where does the evil with regard to racism arise? In the intellect or the will? Is it possible to be a good-willed racist? Can the intellectual error of racism be separated from the moral error? Can someone believe sincerely that some people should be treated differently from others because they are somehow inferior? Or that they should be slaves -- but still be accorded basic protections under justice and the law?
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Disputations: Disproportionate infliction of pain
The question is, are we naming by the 'word' torture the external act (which has for its object the infliction of bodily harm or pain) or the composite of the external act and the internal act (the end of which intention is to induce someone else to cooperate, give information, etc.). It seems the latter, because the internal act gives the formality which defines or puts the external act within a particular moral species.
I argue that torture is unjust here. If it (or the external act) is unjust, how can it possibly be proportionate under any circumstances?
My thinking on this needs to be clarified further.
The question is, are we naming by the 'word' torture the external act (which has for its object the infliction of bodily harm or pain) or the composite of the external act and the internal act (the end of which intention is to induce someone else to cooperate, give information, etc.). It seems the latter, because the internal act gives the formality which defines or puts the external act within a particular moral species.
I argue that torture is unjust here. If it (or the external act) is unjust, how can it possibly be proportionate under any circumstances?
My thinking on this needs to be clarified further.
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