IF abortion is murder, then women who choose abortions are murderers.
IF abortion is murder, it surely should be against the law.
People who break the law should be punished.
If I ask a third party to kill my wife, and pay them to do so, surely I have broken the law and should be punished.
If I take my wife to a place where she is sure to be killed, I have broken the law and should be punished.
Even if what I have done is not against the law, it should be. And I should be punished.
If, that is, there really is no difference between my wife and a fetus. If morally they are exactly the same. If the fetus is morally just like all the people who, unlike the fetus, do not live in someone else’s body. No moral difference. The unborn the same as the born.
Then abortion is murder.
I do not understand why the pro-life folks can’t follow this simple argument; why they seek to avoid this compelling logic.
For the many of us – clergy and laypeople, academics and plain citizens, in the U.S. and throughout the world – who for decades have been saying that the environmental crisis calls for a religious perspective and an activist religious response Pope Francis’ bold words are a wonderfully welcome addition.
At least three things give those words special weight: first, as the years pass the reality of both global warming in particular and the other dimensions of the crisis (including the vast scale of pollution, species loss, and environmental illness) have become increasingly clear. Second, Pope Francis has established himself as a humble, intelligent, and authentic spiritual leader. If political conservatives resent his critique of capitalism, and cultural conservatives wish he would condemn homosexuals, an awful lot of other people (Catholic or not) see him as a man trying to live up to the traditional Christian virtues of love, forgiveness, and humility.
Third, and perhaps most important: Francis is clearly and unambiguously (for the most part, at least, skirting population control) calling a spade a spade: he rejects consumerism and unfettered capitalism, anthropocentrism and turning the earth into “an immense pile of filth.” He does not take refuge in vague generalities or idealistic appeals to unthreatening platitudes.
As an essentially secular person, I am delighted. Every (serious) environmentalist needs every other (serious) environmentalist. If there was ever an “issue” on which religious and secular, scientists and critical theorists, people of all races and nations and cultures might agree, it is this one.
What do 50 Shades of Grey and jihad have in common? Masculine violence and hatred against women, argues Roger Gottlieb. Credit: Creative Commons / FaceMePLS
Fifty Shades of Grey and Jihad. Any similarity? Of course not. One is a phenomenally successful, poorly written, vaguely pornographic novel that follows the tried and true formula of romance novels: powerful, gorgeous, got-it-all man falls for shy, immature, hiddenly attractive, and mildly spunky woman. He dominates her; she reforms him. They (and their assorted whips and handcuffs) live happily ever after.
The second is the horror of ISIS beheading and burning and slaughtering innocent victims; a range of killings from Paris to Denmark to Montreal. People possessed by an insane lust for violence in the service of a literal and infinitely intolerant interpretation of a monotheistic text and tradition. Women as chattel or worse.
by: Roger S. Gottlieb on January 12th, 2015 | Comments Off
Congress of Homosexuals “welcomes” church hierarchy
Credit: Creative Commons / Magnus Manske
After days of intense and strident debate, a meeting of LGBT activists and leaders in New York City issued a dramatic statement yesterday that recognized the “gifts and contributions” of the Catholic hierarchy.
“Of course we’re not saying that all in all Catholicism is a good thing,” said Sander Peterson, working chair of the group. “We just couldn’t go that far, not as long as there are no women priests, and they still discriminate in lots of other ways. And the sexual abuse scandals? Well, what can I say that hasn’t been said already? We’re just saying that despite everything some of the Catholic hierarchy really are good people, doing their best despite their sins and shortcomings. And I for one will welcome them at our events and organizations, providing they don’t make too big a deal out of their Catholicism, of course.”
“Over my dead body,” said Patricia Vasquez, leader of a dissenting minority that threatened to create a new LGBT group, tentatively known as “The Schismatics.” “With the history of their treatment of women in general, and lesbians in particular–not to mention witches–I’ll be damned if I’d let one of those perverts in my groups. Let them repent, publicly, big time, and disavow their sinful past, and then maybe, just maybe, I’ll think about forgiveness and acceptance.”
Credit: Creative Commons/TijsB
The Bad News? The current U.N. report on climate unequivocally states that global warming is happening, that we are causing it, that it will be much worse than previously projected, and that we need to reduce damaging emissions to near zero. Also, the U.S. has just catapulted into congressional and state leadership a political party committed to rejecting these scientific findings and expanding our use of fossil fuels. The Good News? Actually—right at the moment I can’t think of anything.
Forecasting the future is typically impossible. However, here are two scenarios of our future: as the oil eventually runs out, as the storms and droughts and social disequilibrium vastly increase, as so much of what we thought was guaranteed fades away, what will life be like?
Surrounded by the usual code words for these holidays – “freedom from slavery” for the first, “resurrection and new life” for the second – this question may seem at the least silly and at worst an exercise of blasphemous anti-religiosity.
Yet it is actually a serious question. Consider that while freeing the Jews all, yes all, the Egyptians’ first born – from that of the Pharaoh to the Pharaoh’s servants to the Pharaoh’s pet cat – had to die. And consider that Christianity seems to require the suffering and death of an innocent.
That is why some people not under the spell of scriptural sanctity have had critical thoughts. Even as authentic member of the club as Holocaust survivor and extensive commentator on Jewish tradition Elie Wiesel was deeply pained that the liberation of the Jews required the slaughter of innocent Egyptians. And Matthew Fox, originally a Catholic priest and now an Episcopal one, asks comparable questions about what he considers his faith’s over emphasis on sin and death and lack of appreciation of creation and love. Not to mention radical Christian feminists who challenge what they think of as patriarchy’s love affair with violence.
My last blog ended by comparing our lives to a song, and with the reflection: But if we live with awareness and gratitude, compassion and love, we will face the end of the song with grace, knowing that the composer and performer is not us, but forces vastly larger, more creative, and (almost) infinitely more enduring.
I’ve been asked to expand on this thought. What are these ‘forces’? How are they larger and more creative and enduring?
We can start small. Walking my dog this morning through narrow, hilly neighborhood streets, I heard the brilliant “pyou pyou” of a cardinal standing on a tree limb about twenty feet over my head. The bird was only about seven inches long, probably weighed less than two ounces, with a small pointed beak surrounded by quarter inch of black, a tuft of feathers for a pointed crown, and a shockingly red breast and wings. “How does it do that,” I thought, “this tiny thing making a noise that can be heard for blocks? A call louder than the loudest whistle you ever heard from that friend in high school who could put two fingers in his mouth and bring forth a shriek that made people cover their ears and would stop cabs in the street.”
That was the day of the white chrysanthemums, so magnificent I was almost fearful…And then, then you came to take my soul…
For someone way beyond middle age Amour is, as we used to say, quite a trip. To those unfamiliar with this Oscar winning French film, it chronicles the illness, degeneration and death of an aging French piano teacher, who is cared for by her loving, stoic husband. The acting is superb, the writing spare and focused, the pacing almost in ‘real time’ as the camera lingers on the woman’s first stroke, being bathes by an attendant, the husband’s excruciating attempts to get her to eat some oatmeal. In the end the husband, overwhelmed with grief for his wife’s guttural cries of pain, her loss of even a shred of autonomy or dignity, and perhaps also his own exhaustion, frustration, and anger, takes matters into his own hands.
by: Roger S. Gottlieb on February 4th, 2013 | Comments Off
What difference does it make if torture works? Is that all we need to know about it? Is it possible that we shouldn’t torture people even if it does work? By analogy: We could probably eliminate a good deal of the Taliban – at least for a while–if we carpet bombed regions they control. Once we were clear that it ‘works’ – why not do it? So what if we kill some innocent people. After all – the point is to accomplish what we set out to do. Therefore, if torturing a few people, or many people, gets us the information ‘we’ want, that’s all we need to know, right?
Disliking my admittedly extreme example, a person might object: “What if a suspect knows where a bomb is placed that might kill 100 people, wouldn’t it be o.k. to torture him?” To which I reply: “Since we are dealing in ‘what if’ – try this one: what if there is a terrorist bomb set to kill, let’s be bold, 5000 people. And suppose you know that the person who controlled the bomb is in a particular room. The only problem is that there are 10 other people in the room and you don’t know which is the terrorist. Well, do the math: why not torture them all until you find the right one? And suppose it’s not 10 people in the room, but a 100. You’ve still got a 50 to 1 ratio – so torture away, right? Even better: what if torturing an innocent person – say, the terrorist’s 6 year old daughter – would compel the terrorist to talk. Do the math again, surely we’d be justified in torturing the girl. And what if, as Dostoevsky asked, we could end all human misery and bring about a perfect utopia by torturing one innocent child – would we have the right not to do it?
It’s not that the torture scenes weren’t pretty bad. They were: the bruised face, haunted eyes, scarred skin, and gradual deterioration from arrogant jihadist to a helpless, broken body pleading for mercy. But that didn’t make me cry, for when such torture is not an instrument of sadism, as the process unfolding in the film clearly was not, it is simply an instrument of war. And war is hell. That’s just what it is. This I knew.