II. A Consistent Ethic of Life: A Catholic
Perspective
The Challenge of Peace provides a starting point for developing
a consistent ethic of life but it does not provide
a fully articulated framework. The central idea
in the letter is the sacredness of human life and
the responsibility we have, personally and socially,
to protect and preserve the sanctity of life.
Precisely because life is sacred, the taking of even one
human life is a momentous event Indeed, the sense
that every human life has transcendent value has
led a whole stream of the Christian tradition to
argue that life may never be taken. That position
is held by an increasing number of Catholics and
is reflected in the pastoral letter, but it has
not been the dominant view in Catholic teaching
and it is not the principal moral position found
in the pastoral letter. What is found in the letter
is the traditional Catholic teaching that there
should always be a presumption against taking human
life, but in a limited world marked by the effects
of sin there are some narrowly defined exceptions
where life can be taken. This is the moral logic
which produced the "Just-War" ethic in
Catholic theology.
While this style of moral reasoning retains its validity
as a method of resolving extreme cases of conflict
when fundamental rights are at stake, there has
been a perceptible shift of emphasis in the teaching
and pastoral practice of the Church in the last
30 years. To summarize the shift succinctly, the
presumption against taking human life has been strengthened
and the exceptions made ever more restrictive. Two
examples, one at the level of principle, the other
at the level of pastoral practice, illustrate the
shift.
First, in a path-breaking article in 1959 in Theological
Studies, John Courtney Murray, SJ., demonstrated
that Pope Pius XII had reduced the traditional threefold
justification for going to war (defense, recovery
of property and punishment) to the single reason
of defending the innocent and protecting those values
required for decent human existence. Second, in
the case of capital punishment, there has been a
shift at the level of pastoral practice. While not
denying the classical position, found in the writing
of Thomas Aquinas and other authors, that the state
has the right to employ capital punishment, the
action of Catholic bishops and Popes Paul VI and
John Paul II has been directed against the exercise
of that right by the state. The argument has been
that more humane methods of defending the society
exist and should be used. Such humanitarian concern
lies behind the policy position of the National
Conference of Catholic Bishops against capital punishment,
the opposition expressed by individual bishops in
their home states against reinstating the death
penalty, and the extraordinary interventions of
Pope John Paul II and the Florida bishops seeking
to prevent the execution in Florida last week.
Rather than extend the specific analysis of this shift
of emphasis at the levels of both principle and
practice in Catholic thought, I wish to probe the
rationale behind the shift and indicate what it
teaches us about the need for a consistent ethic
of life. Fundamental to the shift is a more acute
perception of the multiple ways in which life is
threatened today. Obviously questions like war,
aggression and capital punishment have been with
us for centuries and are not new to us. What is
new is the context in which these ancient questions
arise, and the way in which a new context shapes
the content of our ethic of life. Let me comment
on the relationship of the context of our culture
and the content of our ethic in terms of: 1) the
need for a consistent ethic of life; 2) the attitude
necessary to sustain it; and 3) the principles needed
to shape it.
The dominant cultural fact, present in both modern warfare
and modern medicine, which induces a sharper awareness
of the fragility of human life is our technology.
To live as we do in an age of careening development
of technology is to face a qualitatively new range
of moral problems. War has been a perennial threat
to human life, but today the threat is qualitatively
different due to nuclear weapons. We now threaten
life on a scale previously unimaginable. As the
pastoral letter put it, the dangers of nuclear war
teach us to read the Book of Genesis with new eyes.
From the inception of life to its decline, a rapidly
expanding technology opens new opportunities for
care but also poses new potential to threaten the
sanctity of life.
The technological challenge is a pervasive concern of Pope
John Paul II, expressed in his first encyclical,
Redemptor Hominis, and continuing through his address
to the Pontifical Academy of Science last month
when he called scientists to direct their work toward
the promotion of life, not the creation of instruments
of death. The essential question in the technological
challenge is this: In an age when we can do almost
anything, how do we decide what we ought to do?
The even more demanding question is: In a time when
we can do anything technologically, how do we decide
morally what we never should do?
Asking these questions along the spectrum of life from
womb to tomb creates the need for a consistent ethic
of life. For the spectrum of life cuts across the
issues of genetics, abortion, capital punishment,
modern warfare and the care of the terminally ill.
These are all distinct problems, enormously complicated,
and deserving individual treatment. No single answer
and no simple responses will solve them. My purpose,
however, is to highlight the way in which we face
new technological challenges in each one of these
areas; this combination of challenges is what cries
out for a consistent ethic of life.
Such an ethic will have to be finely honed and carefully
structured on the basis of values, principles, rules
and applications to specific cases. It is not my
task today, nor within my competence as a bishop,
to spell out all the details of such an ethic. It
is to that task that philosophers and poets, theologians
and technicians, scientists and strategists, political
leaders and plain citizens are called. I would,
however, highlight a basic issue: the need for an
attitude or atmosphere in society which is the pre-condition
for sustaining a consistent ethic of life. The development
of such an atmosphere has been the primary concern
of the "Respect Life" program of the American
bishops. We intend our opposition to abortion and
our opposition to nuclear war to be seen as specific
applications of this broader attitude. We have also
opposed the death penalty because we do not think
its use cultivates an attitude of respect for life
in society. The purpose of proposing a consistent
ethic of life is to argue that success on any one
of the issues threatening life requires a concern
for the broader attitude in society about respect
for human life.
Attitude is the place to root an ethic of life, but ultimately
ethics is about principles to guide the actions
of individuals and institutions. It is therefore
necessary to illustrate, at least by way of example,
my proposition that an inner relationship does exist
among several issues not only at the level of general
attitude but at the more specific level of moral
principles. Two examples will serve to indicate
the point.
The first is contained in The Challenge of Peace in the
connection drawn between Catholic teaching on war
and Catholic teaching on abortion. Both, of course,
must be seen in light of an attitude of respect
for life. The more explicit connection is based
on the principle which prohibits the directly intended
taking of innocent human life. The principle is
at the heart of Catholic teaching on abortion; it
is because the fetus is judged to be both human
and not an aggressor that Catholic teaching concludes
that direct attack on fetal life is always wrong.
This is also why we insist that legal protection
be given to the unborn.
The same principle yields the most stringent, binding and
radical conclusion of the pastoral letter: that
directly intended attacks on civilian centers are
always wrong. The bishops seek to highlight the
power of this conclusion by specifying its implications
in two ways: first, such attacks would be wrong
even if our cities had been hit first; second, anyone
asked to execute such attacks should refuse orders.
These two extensions of the principle cut directly
into the policy debate on nuclear strategy and the
personal decisions of citizens. James Reston referred
to them as "an astonishing challenge to the
power of the state."